Tears were flowing down the furrowed cheeks, leaving ghastly lines on the rouged and whitened surface.

“And I,” he resumed in an accent of deepest despair,—­“I could not reward her for such love and so many sacrifices.  How did I compensate her for being my only consolation, my joy, my sole happiness in life!  I ruined her; I impoverished her!  If I were to die to-morrow, she would be penniless.”

Daniel trembled.

“Ah, count,” he exclaimed, “don’t speak of dying!  People like you live a hundred years.”

But the old man lowered his voice, and said,—­

“You see, I have not told you all yet.  But you are my friend; and I know I can open my heart to you. I did not have the—­the—­cleverness to overcome all the restrictions which hamper this kind of business.  I was imprudent, in spite of all Sir Thorn’s warnings.  To-morrow there will be a meeting of the stockholders; and, if they do not grant me what I shall have to ask of them, I may be in trouble.  And, when a man calls himself Count Ville-Handry, rather than appear in a police-court—­you know what I mean!”

He was interrupted by one of the clerks, who brought him a letter.  He read it, and said,—­

“Tell them I am coming.”

Then, turning again to Daniel, he added,—­

“I must leave you; but the countess is at home, and she would never forgive me if I did not take you in to present your respects to her.  Come!  But be careful and don’t say a word of my troubles.  It would kill her.”

And, before Daniel could recover from his bewilderment, the count had opened a door, and pushed him into the room, saying,—­

“Sarah, M. Champcey.”

Sarah started up as if she had received an electric shock.  Her husband had left them; but, even if he had been still in the room, she would probably not have been any more able to control herself.

“You!” she cried, “Daniel, my Daniel!”

And turning to Mrs. Brian, who was sitting by the window, she said,—­

“Leave us.”

“Your conduct is perfectly shocking, Sarah!” began the grim lady.  But Sarah, as harshly as if she had been speaking to a servant, cut her short, saying,—­

“You are in the way, and I beg you will leave the room.”

Mrs. Brian did so without saying a word; and the countess sank into an arm-chair, as if overcome by a sudden good fortune which she was not able to endure, looking intensely at Daniel, who stood in the centre of the room like a statue.

She had on a simple black merino dress; she wore no jewelry; but her marvellous, fatal beauty seemed to be all the more dazzling.  The years had passed over her without leaving any more traces on her than the spring breeze leaves on a half-opened rose.  Her hair still shone with its golden flashes; her rosy lips smiled sweetly; and her velvet eyes caressed you still, till hot fire seemed to run in your veins.