Raising Henrietta with a powerful arm, he laid her on a sofa, not forgetting to slip a cushion under her head.  Immediately the countess and the other ladies crowded around the fainting girl, rubbing the palms of her hands, moistening her temples with aromatic vinegar and cologne, and holding bottles of salts persistently to her nostrils.

Still all efforts to bring her to remained sterile; and this was so extraordinary, that even Count Ville-Handry began to be moved, although at first he had been heard to exclaim,—­

“Pshaw!  Leave her alone.  It is nothing.”

The mad passion of senile love had not yet entirely extinguished in him the instincts of a father; and anxiety rekindled the affection he had formerly felt for his child.  He rushed, therefore, to the vestibule, calling out to the servants who were there on duty,—­

“Quick!  Let some one run for the doctor; never mind which,—­the nearest!”

This acted as a signal for the guests to scatter at once.  Finding that this fainting-fit lasted too long, and fearing perhaps a fatal termination, a painful scene, and tears, they slyly slipped out, one by one, and escaped.

In this way the countess, Mrs. Brian, M. Elgin, and the unhappy father found themselves soon once more alone with poor Henrietta, who was still unconscious.

“We ought not to leave her here,” said Countess Sarah; “she will be better in her bed.”

“Yes, that is true, you are right!” replied the count.  “I shall have her carried to her room.”

And he was stretching out his hand to pull the bell, when Sir Thorn stopped him, saying in a voice of deep emotion,—­

“Never mind, count.  I’ll carry her myself.”

And, without waiting for an answer, he took her up like a feather, and carried her to her room, followed by Count Ville-Handry, and his young wife.  He could, of course, not remain in Henrietta’s room; but it looked as if he could not tear himself away.  For some time the servants, quite amazed, saw him walk up and down the passage with feverish steps, and, in spite of his usual impassiveness, giving all the signs of extraordinary excitement.  Every ten minutes he paused in his walk to ask at the door, with a voice full of anxiety,—­

“Well?”

“She is still in the same condition,” was the answer.

In the meantime two physicians had arrived, but without obtaining any better results than the countess and her friends.  They had exhausted all the usual remedies for such cases, and began, evidently, to be not a little surprised at the persistency of the symptoms.  Nor could Count Ville-Handry suppress his growing anxiety as he saw them consulting in the recess of one of the windows, discussing more energetic means to be employed.  At last, toward midnight, Sir Thorn saw the young countess come out of Henrietta’s room.

“How is she?” he cried out.

Then the countess said, speaking very loud, so as to be heard by the servants,—­