deeply submissive
air, and sat down again to his work without uttering a word.

The two formed a striking contrast to one another. The newcomer, though
really older than he seemed, would have passed for thirty-six or thirty
eight years of age at most. His figure was tall and shapely, and few
could have encountered the brightness of his large gray eye, brilliant as
polished steel. His nose, broad at the commencement, formed a well-cut
square at its termination; his chin was prominent, and the bluish tints
of his close-shaved beard were contrasted with the bright carnation of
his lips, and the whiteness of his fine teeth. When he took off his hat
to change it for a black velvet cap which he found on the small table, he
displayed a quantity of light chestnut hair, not yet silvered by time. He
was dressed in a long frock-coat, buttoned up to the neck in military
fashion.

The piercing glance and broad forehead of this man revealed a powerful
intellect, even as the development of his chest and shoulders announced a
vigorous physical organization; whilst his gentlemanly appearance, the
perfection of his gloves and boots, the light perfume which hung about
his hair and person, the grace and ease of his least movements, betrayed
what is called the man of the world, and left the impression that he had
sought or might still seek every kind of success, from the most frivolous
to the most serious. This rare combination of strength of mind, strength
of body, and extreme elegance of manners, was in this instance rendered
still more striking by the circumstance, that whatever there might be of
haughtiness or command in the upper part of that energetic countenance,
was softened down, and tempered by a constant but not uniform smile--for,
as occasion served, this smile became either kind or sly, cordial or gay,
discreet or prepossessing, and thus augmented the insinuating charm of
this man, who, once seen, was never again forgotten. But, in yielding to
this involuntary sympathy, the doubt occurred if the influence was for
good--or for evil.

M. Rodin, the secretary of the newcomer, continued to write.

"Are there any letters from Dunkirk, Rodin?" inquired his master.

"Post not yet in."

"Without being positively uneasy as to my mother's health, since she was
already convalescent," resumed the other, "I shall only be quite
reassured by a letter from my excellent friend, the Princess de Saint
Dizier. I shall have good news this mor