his pinched features, his dull eyes, his
blanched lips, in fact his whole appearance denoted either overwhelming
fatigue or unusual sorrow. All the servants had observed, that, during
the past five days, their young master had not been in his ordinary
condition: he spoke but little, ate almost nothing, and refused to see
any visitors. His valet noticed that this singular change dated from
the visit, on Sunday morning, of a certain M. Noel Gerdy, who had been
closeted with him for three hours in the library.

The Viscount, gay as a lark until the arrival of this person, had, from
the moment of his departure, the appearance of a man at the point of
death. When setting forth to meet his father, the viscount appeared to
suffer so acutely that M. Lubin, his valet, entreated him not to go out;
suggesting that it would be more prudent to retire to his room, and call
in the doctor.

But the Count de Commarin was exacting on the score of filial duty, and
would overlook the worst of youthful indiscretions sooner than what he
termed a want of reverence. He had announced his intended arrival
by telegraph, twenty-four hours in advance; therefore the house was
expected to be in perfect readiness to receive him, and the absence of
Albert at the railway station would have been resented as a flagrant
omission of duty.

The viscount had been but five minutes in the waiting-room, when the
bell announced the arrival of the train. Soon the doors leading on
to the platform were opened, and the travelers crowded in. The throng
beginning to thin a little, the count appeared, followed by a servant,
who carried a travelling pelisse lined with rare and valuable fur.

The Count de Commarin looked a good ten years less than his age. His
beard and hair, yet abundant, were scarcely gray. He was tall and
muscular, held himself upright, and carried his head high. His
appearance was noble, his movements easy. His regular features presented
a study to the physiognomist, all expressing easy, careless good
nature, even to the handsome, smiling mouth; but in his eyes flashed the
fiercest and the most arrogant pride. This contrast revealed the secret
of his character. Imbued quite as deeply with aristocratic prejudice
as the Marchioness d'Arlange, he had progressed with his century or at
least appeared to have done so. As fully as the marchioness, he held in
contempt all who were not noble; but his disdain expressed itself in a
different fashion. The ma