to
drop me a line, and I should have waited upon you at once."

"I am sure you would! But that is not necessary. In fact, I have nothing
to say to you. I should not have come to see you, if I had not missed an
appointment. I was to meet one of my fellow members of the assembly, and
he did not come to the place where we were to meet. On my return home,
I happened to pass your house; and I said to myself, 'Why not go up and
see my sailor friend? I might ask him what he thinks of a certain young
lady to whom he had, last night, the honor of being presented.'"

Now or never was the favorable moment for following Maxime's advice;
hence Daniel, instead of replying, simply smiled as pleasantly as he
could.

But that did not satisfy the count; so he repeated the question more
directly, and said,--

"Come, tell us frankly, what do you think of Miss Brandon?"

"She is one of the greatest beauties I have ever seen in my life."

Count Ville-Handry's eyes beamed with delight and with pride as he heard
these words. He exclaimed,--

"Say she is the greatest beauty, the most marvellous and transcendent
beauty, you ever saw. And that, M. Daniel Champcey, is her smallest
attraction. When she opens her lips, the charms of her mind, beauty and
her mind, and remember her admirable ingenuousness, her naive freshness,
and all the treasures of her chaste and pure soul."

This excessive, almost idiotic admiration, this implicit, absurd faith
in his beloved, gave the painted face of the count a strange, almost
ecstatic expression. He said to himself, but loud enough to be heard,--

"And to think that chance alone has led me to meet this angel!"

A sudden start, involuntary on the part of Daniel, seemed to disturb
him; for he resumed his speech, laying great stress upon his words,--

"Yes, chance alone; and I can prove it to you."

He settled down in his chair like a man who is going to speak for some
length of time; and, in that emphatic manner which so well expressed the
high opinion he had of himself, he continued,--

"You know, my friend, how deeply I was affected by the death of the
Countess Ville-Handry. It is true she was not exactly the companion a
statesman of my rank would have chosen. Her whole capacity rarely rose
beyond the effort to distinguish a ball-dress from a dinner-dress.
But she was a good woman, attentive, discreet, and devoted to me; an
excellent manager, economical, and yet always sure to do honor to the
hi