herself with the impression
she would make on the mind of the Count, and felt more sensibly the
solemnity of the matter.

Mademoiselle Marie, as we have already stated, was a cunning little
puss, and had not failed to perceive that her tender mother chose
habitually the season of the convocation of the Councils-General to try
a new style of hair-dressing for her. The same year on which we have
resumed our recital there passed, on one occasion, a little scene
which rather annoyed Madame de Tecle. She was trying a new coiffure
on Mademoiselle Marie, whose hair was very pretty and very black; some
stray and rebellious portions had frustrated her mother's efforts.

There was one lock in particular, which in spite of all combing and
brushing would break away from the rest, and fall in careless curls.
Madame de Tecle finally, by the aid of some ribbons, fastened down the
rebellious curl:

"Now I think it will do," she said sighing, and stepping back to admire
the effect of her work.

"Don't believe it," said Marie, who was laughing and mocking. "I do not
think so. I see exactly what will happen: the bell rings--I run
out--my net gives way--Monsieur de Camors walks in--my mother is
annoyed--tableau!"

"I should like to know what Monsieur de Camors has to do with it?" said
Madame de Tecle.

Her daughter threw her arms around her neck--"Nothing!" she said.

Another time Madame de Tecle detected her speaking of M. de Camors in
a tone of bitter irony. He was "the great man"--"the mysterious
personage"--"the star of the neighborhood"--"the phoenix of guests in
their woods"--or simply "the Prince!"

Such symptoms were of so serious a nature as not to escape Madame de
Tecle.

In presence of "the Prince," it is true, the young girl lost her gayety;
but this was another cross. Her mother found her cold, awkward, and
silent--brief, and slightly caustic in her replies. She feared M. de
Camors would misjudge her from such appearances.

But Camors formed no judgment, good or bad; Mademoiselle de Tecle was
for him only an insignificant little girl, whom he never thought of for
a moment in the year.

There was, however, at this time in society a person who did interest
him very much, and the more because against his will. This was the
Marquise de Campvallon, nee de Luc d'Estrelles.

The General, after making the tour of Europe with his young wife, had
taken possession of his hotel in the Rue Vanneau, where he lived in
great