th,
but seems part of the self-respect that appertains to the old chivalric
point of honour. The horse of one of these cavaliers made a caracole
which brought it nearly upon Alain as he was about to cross. The rider,
checking his steed, lifted his hat to Alain and uttered a word of
apology in the courtesy of ancient high-breeding, but still with
condescension as to an inferior. This little incident, and the slighting
kind of notice received from coevals of his own birth, and doubtless his
own blood,--for he divined truly that they were the sons of the Count
de Vandemar,--disconcerted Alain to a degree which perhaps a Frenchman
alone can comprehend. He had even half a mind to give up his visit
and turn back. However, his native manhood prevailed over that morbid
sensitiveness which, born out of the union of pride and poverty, has all
the effects of vanity, and yet is not vanity itself.

The Count was at home, a thin spare man with a narrow but high forehead,
and an expression of countenance keen, severe, and 'un peu moqueuse.'

He received the Marquis, however, at first with great cordiality,
kissed him on both sides of his cheek, called him "cousin," expressed
immeasurable regret that the Countess was gone out on one of the
missions of charity in which the great ladies of the Faubourg
religiously interest themselves, and that his sons had just ridden forth
to the Bois.

As Alain, however, proceeded, simply and without false shame, to
communicate the object of his visit at Paris, the extent of his
liabilities, and the penury of his means, the smile vanished from the
Count's face. He somewhat drew back his fauteuil in the movement
common to men who wish to estrange themselves from some other man's
difficulties; and when Alain came to a close, the Count remained some
moments seized with a slight cough; and, gazing intently on the carpet,
at length he said, "My dear young friend, your father behaved extremely
ill to you,--dishonourably, fraudulently."

"Hold!" said the Marquis, colouring high. "Those are words no man can
apply to my father in my presence."

The Count stared, shrugged his shoulders, and replied with 'sang froid,'
"Marquis, if you are contented with your father's conduct, of course it
is no business of mine: he never injured me. I presume, however, that,
considering my years and my character, you come to me for advice: is it
so?"

Alain bowed his head in assent.

"There are four courses for one in yo