The tears fell drop by drop on her white, fresh bosom, and glittered there like the drops of dew which one sees shining in the morning on the shoulders of the marble nymphs in the gardens.

Then Camors noiselessly dropped the portiere and noiselessly retired, taking with him, nevertheless, an eternal souvenir of this stolen visit.  He made inquiries; and finally received the embraces of his aunt, who had taken refuge in the chamber of her son, whom she had put in the little chamber formerly occupied by Mademoiselle d’Estrelles.  His aunt, after the first greetings, introduced her nephew into the salon, where were displayed all the pomps of the trousseau.  Cashmeres, laces, velvets, silks of the finest quality, covered the chairs.  On the chimneypiece, the tables, and the consoles, were strewn the jewel-cases.

While Madame de la Roche-Jugan was exhibiting to Camors these magnificent things—­of which she failed not to give him the prices—­Charlotte, who had been notified of the Count’s presence, entered the salon.

Her face was not only serene—­it was joyous.  “Good morning, cousin!” she said gayly, extending her hand to Camors.  “How very kind of you to come!  Well, you see how the General spoils me?”

“This is the trousseau of a princess, Mademoiselle!”

“And if you knew, Louis,” said Madame de la Roche, “how well all this suits her!  Dear child! you would suppose she had been born to a throne.  However, you know she is descended from the kings of Spain.”

“Dear aunt!” said Mademoiselle, kissing her on the forehead.

“You know, Louis, that I wish her to call me aunt now?” said the Countess, affecting the plaintive tone, which she thought the highest expression of human tenderness.

“Ah, indeed!” said Camors.

“Let us see, little one!  Only try on your coronet before your cousin.”

“I should like to see it on your brow,” said Camors.

“Your slightest wishes are commands,” replied Charlotte, in a voice harmonious and grave, but not untouched with irony.

In the midst of the jewelry which encumbered the salon was a full marquise’s coronet set in precious stones and pearls.  The young girl adjusted it on her head before the glass, and then stood near Camors with majestic composure.

“Look!” she said; and he gazed at her bewildered, for she looked wonderfully beautiful and proud under her coronet.

Suddenly she darted a glance full into the eyes of the young man, and lowering her voice to a tone of inexpressible bitterness, said: 

“At least I sell myself dearly, do I not?” Then turning her back to him she laughed, and took off her coronet.

After some further conversation Camors left, saying to himself that this adorable person promised to become very dangerous; but not admitting that he might profit by it.

In conformity with his promise he returned immediately to the General, who continued to pace the three rooms, and cried out as he saw him: