e heard no more just then, for the duke came in to the
refreshment-room after his partner, and was politeness itself, and all
attention. I fancy more than one of these highborn ladies, must have
gone green and yellow with envy and jealousy. When the fete was over,
and my master and mistress took their leave, the English lord had
followed them in a very insulting manner, and when they came to the
staircase had whispered a word or two in the count's ear; who had then
stood still, and had answered quite loud enough to be heard by all the
footmen, and some of the court-gentlemen who were standing about:

"'This time you will have to look for another player at that game, my
lord--I have found a prize since then, which I have no intention of
staking on one card: even if I were certain that the cards were not
false, as, they did say in the London clubs, some people are in the
habit of using. In case you should require any further satisfaction, my
horsewhip is still, as it was then, very much at your service.'"

"And with that he had gone, and left the fellow standing. On their way
home, he had said to Gabrielle: 'I trust this is the last remnant of my
past life that will ever rise up to throw a shadow on my present
happiness. You alone are all my present and all my future, in this
world.' And he had said more of the like loving, heart-felt things that
kept her warmer in the cold and snow of that winter night than all her
furs."

"From that time they lived alone, and were all and all to each other,
refusing every invitation that came from court--only now and then, they
took little journeys; though it was easy to see that they were always
happiest at home, among our solitary woods. The countess never changed
to me, and used always to tell me everything. The only thing we never
spoke of, was what had passed between us on that awful morning, when
she had wanted to go away--I never heard whether she confessed the real
reason to her husband. I rather think it likely that she did, for now
the count had a peculiar look of tenderness, whenever he mentioned his
absent son; even when he got a letter from Stockholm. When that
happened he would send for me upstairs, and talk to me of my darling,
and give me the love he never forgot to send me. Once or twice a year
he wrote to me himself; familiarly and kindly, as ever, but never a
word of what was most important to me--not a word of what he felt or
thought."

"When he had been about tw