a large reception
room, sending his card to the marquis by the neat-appearing colored
maid who answered the door.

If surroundings indicate the man, the apartments in which the visitor
stood spoke eloquently of the marquis' taste. Eschewing the stiff,
affected classicalism of the Empire style, the furniture was the best
work of Andre Boule and Riesener; tables, with fine marquetry of the
last century, made of tulip wood and mahogany; mirrors from
Tourlaville; couches with tapestry woven in fanciful designs after
Fragonard, in the looms of Beauvais--couches that were made for
conversation, not repose; cabinets exemplifying agreeable disposition
of lines and masses in the inlaid adornment, containing tiny drawers
that fitted with old-time exactness, and, without jamming, opened and
shut at the touch. The marquis' character was stamped by these
details; it was old, not new France, to which he belonged.

Soon the marquis' servant, a stolid, sober man, of virtuous
deportment, came down stairs to inform the land baron his master had
suffered a relapse and was unable to see any one.

"Last night his temperature was very high," said the valet. "My master
is very ill; more so than I have known him to be in twenty years."

"You have served the marquis so long?" said the visitor, pausing as he
was leaving the room. "Do you remember the Saint-Prosper family?"

"Well, Monsieur. General Saint-Prosper and my master were distant
kinsmen and had adjoining lands."

"Surely the marquis did not pass his time in the country?" observed
Mauville.

"He preferred it to Paris--when my lady was there!" added Francois,
softly.

In spite of his ill-humor, the shadow of a smile gleamed in the land
baron's gaze, and, encouraged by that questioning look, the man
continued: "The marquis and General Saint-Prosper were always
together. My lady had her own friends."

"So I've heard," commented the listener.

Francois' discreet eyes were downcast. Why did the visitor wish to
learn about the Saint-Prosper family? Why, instead of going, did he
linger and eye the man half-dubiously? Francois had sold so many of
his master's secrets he scented his opportunities with a sixth sense.

"The marquis and General Saint-Prosper were warm friends?" asked the
land baron at length.

"Yes, Monsieur; the death of the latter was a severe shock to the
Marquis de Ligne, but, _mon Dieu_!"--lifting his eyes--"it was as well
he did not live to witness the disgra