nding at a little distance,
was now driven up to the house, a footman in showy livery hastened to
open the door, and a little old man, with a light and jaunty movement,
though it was evident he was one of those relics of the past who have
not yet abandoned powder, stepped quickly into the carriage, which was
then driven rapidly away. La Peyrade had time to observe on his breast
a perfect string of decorations. This, combined with the powdered hair,
was certain evidence of a diplomatic individual.

La Peyrade had picked up his book once more, when a bell from the
inner room sounded, quickly followed by the appearance of the maid, who
invited him to follow her. The Provencal took care _not_ to replace the
volume where he found it, and an instant later he entered the presence
of the countess.

A pained expression was visible on the handsome face of the foreign
countess, who, however, lost nothing of her charm in the languor that
seemed to overcome her. On the sofa beside her was a manuscript written
on gilt-edged paper, in that large and opulent handwriting which
indicates an official communication from some ministerial office or
chancery. She held in her hand a crystal bottle with a gold stopper,
from which she frequently inhaled the contents, and a strong odor of
English vinegar pervaded the salon.

"I fear you are ill, madame," said la Peyrade, with interest.

"Oh! it is nothing," replied the countess; "only a headache, to which
I am very subject. But you, monsieur, what has become of you? I was
beginning to lose all hope of ever seeing you again. Have you come
to announce to me some great news? The period of your marriage with
Mademoiselle Colleville is probably so near that I think you can speak
of it."

This opening disconcerted la Peyrade.

"But, madame," he answered, in a tone that was almost tart, "you, it
seems to me, must know too well everything that goes on in the
Thuillier household not to be aware that the event you speak of is not
approaching, and, I may add, not probable."

"No, I assure you, I know nothing; I have strictly forbidden myself from
taking any further interest in an affair which I felt I had meddled with
very foolishly. Mademoiselle Brigitte and I talk of everything except
Celeste's marriage."

"And it is no doubt the desire to allow me perfect freedom in the matter
that induces you to take flight whenever I have the honor to meet you in
the Thuillier salon?"

"Yes," said the count