He awoke in the morning with renewed resolution, but his brow was still heated with the dissipation of the previous night, and his hand shook as he applied himself to his work. After a couple of hours, however, when Marguerite had taken her place by his side, he forgot Dantzic, Carl, and Krantz, all the annoyances which threatened him. He was absorbed in his pursuit, and Marguerite was looking over with her attention not less absorbed than his own, when to their astonishment the magnificent carriage, with the heavy, sleek, overfed horses, of the Count Albrecht, rolled up to the door.
“Look here, Dumiger,” exclaimed Marguerite, running to the window with a woman’s curiosity flushing her cheek. “Here is the Grand Master’s carriage—what can he be doing at this house?”
“He must be calling on the new arrivals who took the apartments on the first-floor yesterday,” said Dumiger, scarcely looking up from his work, on which all his attention was concentrated.
“They are beautiful horses, and the manes and tails are decorated with ribands which would furnish me with sashes for a whole life,” thought Marguerite; but she avoided giving utterance to her feeling, lest Dumiger should interpret it into an expression of regret at having given up the prospect of ever obtaining all these luxuries.
Marguerite had just left the window when a heavy step was heard on the stair, and loud knock at the door roused Dumiger from his fit of abstraction, nearly making him jump from his chair. The impulsive “Come in!” which he uttered, was immediately succeeded by the appearance of the Count.
Dumiger, like most men of deep thought and habits of abstraction, was diffident. He stood for some moments thunderstruck without performing any of the usual courtesies of society. Marguerite in her surprise imagined that she must have been guilty of some great negligence while residing in the palace, with which the Count now came to reproach her.
The silence was broken by the Count himself, who nodded kindly, almost familiarly to Marguerite, and without any further ceremony took the chair from which Dumiger had just risen.
“I called to see whether you were comfortable, Marguerite, in your new abode. It is small,” continued the Count, as lolling back in his chair he touched the wall with the back of his head: “I suppose, however, that you will some day be able to afford a larger. I do not wish to trespass upon your confidence, but as I have the liveliest gratitude for the admirable manner in which you, Marguerite, discharged all your duties while you were with me, you must let me evince my recollection of them by a small wedding present.” And the Count laid a rouleau of gold pieces on the table.