He met all these objections with a sweetish smile, like a great artist who hears an ignoramus criticise his work.  And, when the countess paused, he deigned to explain to her in that emphatic manner which betrayed his intense conceit, that if he, the representative of the very oldest nobility, threw himself into the great movement, it was for the purpose of setting a lofty example.  He had no desire for “filthy lucre,” he assured her; he only desired to render his country a great service.

“Too dangerous a service!” replied the countess.  “If you succeed, as you hope, who will thank you for it?  No one.  More than that, if you speak to them of disinterestedness, they will laugh in your face.  If the thing fails, on the other hand, who is to pay?  You.  And they will call you a dunce into the bargain.”

Count Ville-Handry shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly; and then he said, taking his wife by the hand,—­

“Would you love me less if I were ruined?”

She looked at him with her beautiful eyes as if overflowing with affection, and replied in a voice full of emotion,—­

“God is my witness, my friend, that I should be delighted to be able to prove to you that I did not think of money when I married you.”

“Sarah!” cried the count in ecstasy, “Sarah, my darling, that was a word worth the whole of that fortune which you blame me for risking.”

Even if Henrietta had been more disposed to mistrust appearances, she would never have supposed that the whole scene was most cunningly devised for the purpose of impressing upon the count’s feeble intellect this idea more forcibly than ever.  She was rather inclined to believe, and she did believe, that this Petroleum Society, conceived by Sir Thorn, was unpleasant to the countess; and that thus discord reigned in the enemy’s camp.

The result of her meditations was a long letter to a gentleman for whom her mother had always entertained a great esteem, the Duke of Champdoce.  After having explained to him her situation, she told him all that she knew of the new enterprise, and besought him to interfere whilst it was yet time.

When she had written her letter, she gave it to Clarissa, urging her to carry it immediately to its address.  Alas! the poor girl was rapidly approaching an incident which was to bring about a crisis.

Having by chance followed the maid down stairs, she saw her go into the Countess Sarah’s room, and hand her the letter.

Was Henrietta thus betrayed even by the girl whom she thought so fully devoted to her interests, and since when?  Perhaps from the first day.  Ah, how many things this explained to her which she had hitherto wondered at as perfectly incomprehensible!

This last infamy, however, tempted her to lay aside for once her carefully-nursed reserve.  She rushed into the room, crimson with shame and wrath, and said in a fierce tone,—­