“Yes,” the Countess answered, “it will be like that always with her.  If I tell you something,” she said, the light dancing in her eyes as she spoke, “will you be very discreet about it?  I am thinking of marrying Katrine to my nephew, the Duc de Launay.  He doesn’t know it, being in Africa, but I am determined to be firm with both.  Think of those splendid, great ways of hers!  She should have been a duchess in the Middle Ages, when she could have dressed in long, brocaded stuffs and led armies or killed a king.  You can see,” she said, drawing her wraps about her, “I am not quite sane on the subject of this Irish child, and go before I become a regular bore.  Good-bye, Mrs. Lennox; good-bye, Mr. Ravenel.  I am so glad to have you both for Friday night.”

She rose, and as she did so Frank came forward to assist her with her wraps.  At sight of him, in the full light of the doorway, she drew back for an instant, clutched at a curtain, gave another quick look, and fell, with a white face, unconscious into Anne’s supporting arms.

It was not long, however, before she recovered enough to be helped to her carriage; but this fainting was followed by a protracted illness, the Friday dinner was postponed indefinitely, and Katrine summoned hurriedly home from Fontainebleau.

Naturally, Anne Lennox called and brought Frank with her to make inquiries and to leave regrets.  It was in this visit, as Frank stood well in the sunshine admiring the old house, that Quantrelle, peering from his box, saw him, and with an oath fell back into the shadow as though hiding from an enemy.  Peering from a crack in the door, he waited Frank’s departure, and after the carriage had driven away, seized a hat and ran at a mad pace down the narrow street, upsetting children and dogs as he ran.

* * * * *

Josef protested impatiently that it was a badly chosen time for the Countess to be ill, speaking as though Madame de Nemours had personally selected it with criminal thoughtlessness of Katrine, whose debut was close at hand; for despite his protests, the girl took the position of nurse, sitting up till all hours of the night, and neglecting her lessons if the Countess needed or desired her services.

The great lady herself, after the danger seemed passed, lay in silence day by day, neither questioning nor explaining.  To Katrine, however, explanations were unnecessary, for she understood that to Madame de Nemours the sight of Frank had brought back, with terrible distinctness that other Ravenel who had been summoned to his accounting years before.  Just how much Madame de Nemours knew of Frank’s attitude to Katrine at this time was never made clear, but she clung to her adopted child with love and a new comprehension.

But no word passed between them at the time on the subject of either Ravenel, nor did these two great ladies again speak to each other on the subject of Francis Ravenel until the night of the Countess’ death.  But it was doubtless the bond in suffering, no less than her great love, which made the Countess write to Dermott, the first day of her convalescence, the letter which is set below: