“I was going up before them; and, as I reached the second story, a door suddenly opened, and a young girl was standing right before me.

“She was evidently dressing, when the noise which we made startled her; and she came running out.  She had only taken time to throw a loose wrapper around her shoulders; and her dishevelled hair streamed out from under a kind of coquettish morning-cap.

“When she saw her kinsman in the arms of the servants, she imagined he was dangerously wounded, perhaps even—­She turned as pale as death, and, uttering a loud cry, she tottered.

“She would have fallen down the steps, head foremost, if I had not caught her in my arms.  She had fainted.  And there I held her, leaning on my shoulder, so close that I became aware of the warmth of her lovely body, and actually felt her heart beat against mine.  Her cap had become unfastened; and her hair fell in golden floods all over me, and down to the floor.  But all this lasted only a few seconds.

“When she recovered, and found herself in the arms of a man, she rose with an air of extreme distress, and, slipping away, disappeared in her room.”

At the mere description of this scene, the count turned pale under his rouge; and his voice forsook him.  Nor did he in any way attempt to conceal his emotion.

“I am a poor old fellow,” he said; “and between you and me, my dear Daniel, I will tell you that the women—­well—­the women have not been—­exactly cruel to me.  In fact, I thought I had outlived all the emotions which they can possibly give us.

“Well, I was mistaken.  Never in my life, I assure you, have I felt such a deep sensation as when Miss Brandon was lying in my arms.”

While saying this, he had pulled out his handkerchief, saturated with a strong perfume, and was wiping his forehead, though very gently, and with infinite precautions, so as not to spoil the artistic work of his valet.

“You will know Miss Brandon,” he went on, “I hope soon.  Once having seen her, one wants to see her again.  I was lucky enough to have a pretext for coming again; and the very next day I was at her door, inquiring after M. Thomas Elgin.  They showed me into the room of that excellent gentleman, where I found him stretched out on an invalid’s chair, with his legs all bandaged up.  By his side sat a venerable lady, to whom he presented me, and who was no other than Mrs. Brian.

“They received me very kindly, although with some little reserve under all their politeness; but I staid and staid in vain beyond the proper time; Miss Sarah did not appear.

“Nor did I see her upon subsequent occasions, when I repeated my visits, until at last I came to the conclusion that she avoided me purposely.

“Upon my word, I believed it.  But one day Sir Thorn, who was improving very rapidly, expressed a desire to walk out a few steps in the Champs Elysees.  I offered him my arm; he accepted it; and, when we came back, he asked me if I would be kind enough to take pot-luck with him.”