All?  By no means.  There was one of the inmates of the palace who recalled it daily,—­M.  Thomas Elgin.

On the very evening after the scene, his generous indignation had so far gotten the better of his usual reserve, and his pledge of neutrality, that he had taken the Countess Sarah aside, and overwhelmed her with sharp reproaches.

“You will have to eat your own words,” he had told her, among other things, “if you use such abominable means to gratify your hatred.”

It is true, that, when he thus took his kinswoman aside, he also took pains to be overheard by Henrietta.  And besides, for fear, perhaps, that she might not fully appreciate his sentiments, he had stealthily pressed her hand, and whispered into her ear,—­

“Poor, dear girl!  But I am here.  I shall watch.”

This sounded like a promise to afford her protection, which certainly would have been efficient if it had been sincere.  But was it sincere?

“No; most assuredly not!” said M. de Brevan when he was consulted.  “It can be nothing but vile hypocrisy and the beginning of an abominable farce.  You will see, madam.”

What Henrietta really saw was, that the Hon. M. Elgin suddenly underwent a complete metamorphosis.  A new Sir Thorn appeared, whom no one would have ever suspected under the cloak of icy reserve which the former had worn.  His sympathetic pity of former days was succeeded by more tender sentiments.  It was not pity now, which animated his big, blue-china eyes, but the half-suppressed flame of a discreet passion.  In public he did not commit himself much; but there was no little attention which he did not pay Henrietta by stealth.  He never left the room before her; and, on the reception-evenings, he always took a seat by her, and remained there till the end.  The most direct result of these manoeuvres was to keep M. de Brevan from her.  The latter became naturally very indignant at this, and began to dislike Sir Thorn to such an extent, that he could hardly contain himself.

“Well, madam,” he said to Henrietta on one of the few occasions when he could speak to her,—­“well, what did I tell you?  Does the wretch show his hand clearly enough now?”

Henrietta discouraged her curious lover as much as she could; but it was impossible for her to avoid him, as they lived under the same roof, and sat down twice a day at the same table.

“The simplest way,” was M. de Brevan’s advice, “would be, perhaps, to provoke an explanation.”

But he did not wait to be asked.  One morning, after breakfast, he waited for Henrietta in the vestibule; and, when she appeared, he said in an embarrassed manner,—­

“I must speak to you, madam; it is absolutely necessary.”

She did not manifest any surprise, and simply replied,—­

“Follow me, sir.”