In vain did Norbert deny the whole thing, for his intended father-in-law would not believe him; and at last he got so annoyed that he refused to remain and dine with the Count, alleging anxiety for his father as an excuse.  He returned home as soon as he possibly could, much agitated by what he had heard; and as he was walking rapidly on, he heard his name called by some one who was running after him:  Norbert turned round, and found himself face to face with Montlouis.

“I have been here a week,” said the young man.  “I am here with my patron, for I have one now.  I am now with the Viscount de Mussidan, as his private secretary.  M. Octave is not the most agreeable man in the world to get on with, as he gets into the most violent passions on very trivial occasions; but he has a good heart, after all, and I am very pleased with the position I have gained.”

“I am very glad to hear it, Montlouis, very much pleased indeed.”

“And you, Marquis, I hear, are to marry Mademoiselle de Puymandour; I could scarcely credit the news.”

“And why, pray?”

“Because I remembered when we used to wait outside a certain garden wall, until we saw a certain door open discreetly.”

“But you must efface all this from your memory, Montlouis.”

“Do not be alarmed; save to you, my lips would never utter a word of this.  No one else would ever make me speak.”

“Stop!” said Norbert, with an angry gesture.  “Do you venture to say—­”

“To say what?”

“I wish you to understand that Mademoiselle Diana is as free from blame to-day as she was when first I met her.  She has been indiscreet, but nothing more, I swear it before heaven!”

“I believe you perfectly.”

In reality Montlouis did not believe one word of Norbert’s assertion, and the young Marquis could read this in his companion’s face.

“The more so,” continued the secretary, “as the young lady is about to be married to my friend and patron.”

“But where,” asked Norbert, “did the Viscount meet with Mademoiselle de Laurebourg?”

“In Paris; the Viscount and her brother were very intimate, and nursed him during his last illness, and as soon as the scheming parents heard of the Viscount being in the neighborhood they asked him to call on them.  Of course he did so, and saw Mademoiselle Diana, and returned home in a perfect frenzy of love.”

Norbert seemed so incensed at this that Montlouis broke off his recital, feeling confident that the Marquis still loved Diana, and was consumed with the flame of jealousy.

“But, of course,” he added carelessly, “nothing is yet settled.”