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it necessary to have a pair of spirited horses, servants in

livery, and torrents of gold to draw a glance from a woman here



in Paris?"

The demon of luxury gnawed at his heart, greed burned in his



veins, his throat was parched with the thirst of gold.

He had a hundred and thirty francs every quarter. His father,



mother, brothers, sisters, and aunt did not spend two hundred

francs a month among them. This swift comparison between his



present condition and the aims he had in view helped to benumb

his faculties.



"Why not?" the Vicomtesse was saying, as she smiled at the

Portuguese. "Why cannot you come to the Italiens?"



"Affairs! I am to dine with the English Ambassador."

"Throw him over."



When a man once enters on a course of deception, he is compelled

to add lie to lie. M. d'Ajuda therefore said, smiling, "Do you



lay your commands on me?"

"Yes, certainly."



"That was what I wanted to have you say to me," he answered,

dissembling his feelings in a glance which would have reassured



any other woman.

He took the Vicomtesse's hand, kissed it, and went.



Eugene ran his fingers through his hair, and constrained himself

to bow. He thought that now Mme. de Beauseant would give him her



attention; but suddenly she sprang forward, rushed to a window in

the gallery, and watched M. d'Ajuda step into his carriage; she



listened to the order that he gave, and heard the Swiss repeat it

to the coachman:



"To M. de Rochefide's house."

Those words, and the way in which M. d'Ajuda flung himself back



in the carriage, were like a lightning flash and a thunderbolt

for her; she walked back again with a deadly fear gnawing at her



heart. The most terrible catastrophes only happen among the

heights. The Vicomtesse went to her own room, sat down at a



table, and took up a sheet of dainty notepaper.

"When, instead of dining with the English Ambassador,"



she wrote, "you go to the Rochefides, you owe me an

explanation, which I am waiting to hear."



She retraced several of the letters, for her hand was trembling

so that they were indistinct; then she signed the note with an



initial C for "Claire de Bourgogne," and rang the bell.

"Jacques," she said to the servant, who appeared immediately,



"take this note to M. de Rochefide's house at half-past seven and

ask for the Marquis d'Ajuda. If M. d'Ajuda is there, leave the



note without waiting for an answer; if he is not there, bring the

note back to me."



"Madame la Vicomtess, there is a visitor in the drawing-room."

"Ah! yes, of course," she said, opening the door.



Eugene was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, but at last the

Vicomtesse appeared; she spoke to him, and the tremulous tones of



her voice vibrated through his heart.

"Pardon me, monsieur," she said; "I had a letter to write. Now I



am quite at liberty."

She scarcely knew what she was saying, for even as she spoke she



thought, "Ah! he means to marry Mlle. de Rochefide? But is he

still free? This evening the marriage shall be broken off, or



else . . . But before to-morrow I shall know."

"Cousin . . ." the student replied.



"Eh?" said the Countess, with an insolent glance that sent a cold

shudder through Eugene; he understood what that "Eh?" meant; he



had learned a great deal in three hours, and his wits were on the

alert. He reddened:



"Madame . . ." he began; he hesitated a moment, and then went on.

"Pardon me; I am in such need of protection that the nearest



scrap of relationship could do me no harm."

Mme. de Beauseant smiled but there was sadness in her smile; even



now she felt forebodings of the coming pain, the air she breathed

was heavy with the storm that was about to burst.



"If you knew how my family are situated," he went on, "you would

love to play the part of a beneficent fairy godmother who



graciously clears the obstacles from the path of her protege."

"Well, cousin," she said, laughing, "and how can I be of service



to you?"




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