overthrown the structure built on a husband's lie to his wife, could not
conceive that his words should produce such an effect; he supposed
that the Countess was in such delicate health that the slightest
contradiction was mischievous.

The cook presently returned to say, unfortunately in loud tones, that
her master was not in the studio. In the midst of her anguish, Hortense
heard, and the hysterical fit came on again.

"Go and fetch madame's mother," said Louise to the cook. "Quick--run!"

"If I knew where to find Steinbock, I would go and fetch him!" exclaimed
Stidmann in despair.

"He is with that woman!" cried the unhappy wife. "He was not dressed to
go to his work!"

Stidmann hurried off to Madame Marneffe's, struck by the truth of this
conclusion, due to the second-sight of passion.

At that moment Valerie was posed as Delilah. Stidmann, too sharp to ask
for Madame Marneffe, walked straight in past the lodge, and ran quickly
up to the second floor, arguing thus: "If I ask for Madame Marneffe, she
will be out. If I inquire point-blank for Steinbock, I shall be laughed
at to my face.--Take the bull by the horns!"

Reine appeared in answer to his ring.

"Tell Monsieur le Comte Steinbock to come at once, his wife is dying--"

Reine, quite a match for Stidmann, looked at him with blank surprise.

"But, sir--I don't know--did you suppose----"

"I tell you that my friend Monsieur Steinbock is here; his wife is very
ill. It is quite serious enough for you to disturb your mistress." And
Stidmann turned on his heel.

"He is there, sure enough!" said he to himself.

And in point of fact, after waiting a few minutes in the Rue Vanneau,
he saw Wenceslas come out, and beckoned to him to come quickly. After
telling him of the tragedy enacted in the Rue Saint-Dominique, Stidmann
scolded Steinbock for not having warned him to keep the secret of
yesterday's dinner.

"I am done for," said Wenceslas, "but you are forgiven. I had totally
forgotten that you were to call this morning, and I blundered in not
telling you that we were to have dined with Florent.--What can I say?
That Valerie has turned my head; but, my dear fellow, for her glory is
well lost, misfortune well won! She really is!--Good Heavens!--But I am
in a dreadful fix. Advise me. What can I say? How can I excuse myself?"

"I! advise you! I don't know," replied Stidmann. "But your wife loves
you, I imagine? Well, then, she will believe anything. Tell her