he grave
nature of the attack. Madeleine was silent.

"Did you not hear me? Why do you not answer?"

"The doctor did not call it a fainting fit," was Madeleine's vague
response. "Yet Count Tristan was in a state of insensibility, and had
not spoken when I left him."

"Why did you leave him, then? How could you have been so neglectful?"
The countess burst out as though it was a relief to have some
one on whom she could vent her wrath. "If he is seriously ill,--so
ill as to continue insensible,--you should have remained by his
side, and not left him to the improper treatment of strangers:
it is abominable,--outrageous!"

"I will gladly hasten back. Pray be composed, madame, and let us hope
for a favorable change. I expect to find him better. Before you reach
the house, his consciousness may have returned."

Madeleine retired, without waiting for any further comment; for she had
an internal conviction that whatever she did or said would be unpleasant
to her aunt in her present troubled state.

There was no perceptible alteration in the condition of Count Tristan.
Ruth, who was sitting by his side, said he had scarcely stirred. His
face still wore a purplish hue, and his glassy, bloodshot eyes, though
wide open, were vacant and expressionless. He lay as still as if
deprived of sensation and motion.

Madeleine had been at home nearly an hour before she heard the carriage
which contained the countess stop at the door. Madame de Gramont, even
in a case of such extremity, was not able to complete her arrangements
hurriedly.

Madeleine, when she went forth to receive her relative, was much
relieved to find her accompanied by Bertha.

Bertha threw herself in Madeleine's arms, whispering, "Is he _very_
ill?"

"Yes, I fear so," answered Madeleine, in too low a voice for the
countess to hear. Then turning to Madame de Gramont, she inquired,
gently, "Do you wish to go to him at once?"

"For what other purpose have I come?" was the ungracious rejoinder.

Madeleine led the way to the apartment, and motioned Ruth to withdraw.

The countess walked up to the bed with a firm step, as though nerving
herself to disbelieve that anything serious was the matter.

"My son!" she said, in a voice somewhat choked, but which expressed
confidence that he would immediately reply, "My son! why do you not
answer me?"

She took his hand; it remained passive in hers; his eyes still stared
vacantly. His mother more tightly grasped the h