ered
voice, "if any man but you had asked me such a question, I would have
cracked his skull with this mass of gold. Leave me, I entreat you.
I feel more like blowing out my brains this evening, I assure you,
than----I hate everything I see. And, in fact, I am going. This gaiety,
this music, these stupid faces, all laughing, are killing me!"

"My poor friend!" replied Montcornet gently, and giving the Count's hand
a friendly pressure, "you are too vehement. What would you say if I told
you that Martial is thinking so little of Madame de Vaudremont that he
is quite smitten with that little lady?"

"If he says a word to her," cried Soulanges, stammering with rage, "I
will thrash him as flat as his own portfolio, even if the coxcomb were
in the Emperor's lap!"

And he sank quite overcome on an easy-chair to which Montcornet had led
him. The colonel slowly went away, for he perceived that Soulanges
was in a state of fury far too violent for the pleasantries or the
attentions of superficial friendship to soothe him.

When Montcornet returned to the ballroom, Madame de Vaudremont was the
first person on whom his eyes fell, and he observed on her face, usually
so calm, some symptoms of ill-disguised agitation. A chair was vacant
near hers, and the Colonel seated himself.

"I dare wager something has vexed you?" said he.

"A mere trifle, General. I want to be gone, for I have promised to go to
a ball at the Grand Duchess of Berg's, and I must look in first at the
Princesse de Wagram's. Monsieur de la Roche-Hugon, who knows this, is
amusing himself by flirting with the dowagers."

"That is not the whole secret of your disturbance, and I will bet a
hundred louis that you will remain here the whole evening."

"Impertinent man!"

"Then I have hit the truth?"

"Well, tell me, what am I thinking of?" said the Countess, tapping the
Colonel's fingers with her fan. "I might even reward you if you guess
rightly."

"I will not accept the challenge; I have too much the advantage of you."

"You are presumptuous."

"You are afraid of seeing Martial at the feet----"

"Of whom?" cried the Countess, affecting surprise.

"Of that candelabrum," replied the Colonel, glancing at the fair
stranger, and then looking at the Countess with embarrassing scrutiny.

"You have guessed it," replied the coquette, hiding her face behind her
fan, which she began to play with. "Old Madame de Lansac, who is, you
know, as malicious as an old mo