entre of a wide cornice,
magnificently carved and gilt, and supported at its angles by four
large gilt figures, representing the Seasons. Huge panels, covered
with crimson damask, and set in frames, served as the background to the
family portraits which adorned this apartment. It is easier to conceive
than describe the thousand conflicting emotions which agitated the bosom
of Mdlle. de Cardoville as the moment approached for her interview with
Djalma. Their meeting had been hitherto prevented by so many painful
obstacles, and Adrienne was so well aware of the vigilant and active
perfidy of her enemies, that even now she doubted of her happiness.
Every instant, in spite of herself, her eyes wandered to the clock.
A few minutes more, and the hour of the appointment would strike.
It struck at last. Every reverberation was echoed from the depth of
Adrienne's heart. She considered that Djalma's modest reserve had,
doubtless, prevented his coming before the moment fixed by herself. Far
from blaming this discretion, she fully appreciated it. But, from that
moment, at the least noise in the adjoining apartments, she held her
breath and listened with the anxiety of expectation.

For the first few minutes which followed the hour at which she expected
Djalma, Mdlle. de Cardoville felt no serious apprehension, and calmed
her impatience by the notion (which appears childish enough to those who
have never known the feverish agitation of waiting for a happy meeting),
that perhaps the clocks in the Rue Blanche might vary a little from
those in the Rue d'Anjou. But when this supposed variation, conceivable
enough in itself, could no longer explain a delay of a quarter of an
hour, of twenty minutes, of more, Adrienne felt her anxiety gradually
increase. Two or three times the young girl rose, with palpitating
heart, and went on tip-toe to listen at the door of the saloon. She
heard nothing. The clock struck half-past three.

Unable to suppress her growing terror, and clinging to a last hope,
Adrienne returned towards the fireplace and rang the bell. After which
she endeavored to compose her features, so as to betray no outward sign
of emotion. In a few seconds, a gray-haired footman, dressed in black,
opened the door, and waited in respectful silence for the orders of his
mistress. The latter said to him, in a calm voice, "Andrew, request Hebe
to give you the smelling bottle that I left on the chimney-piece in my
room, and bring it me h