"My wife sketched her in many different positions. A profile sketch, with the head sorrowfully drooping, was especially good, and I could never look at it enough. I still remember when, at one of these sittings, I for the first time touched her hair; until then I had not once felt so much as the tips of her fingers in my hands. It went through my nerves like an electric shock. There was a peculiar fragrance about her from some costly French perfume that she used. I knew even long afterwards if she had lingered in a place, either been sitting in my hammock, or standing by the bookcase in the _salon_. "One evening, as we were preparing to visit her for a little chat before bedtime, our door suddenly opened; she rushed in, the very picture of terror, bolted the door after her, and sinking on the nearest chair, broke into such a storm of tears that she could not speak. We were extremely anxious about her, but my wife at length succeeded in calming her so far that she could tell what had occurred, with tolerable composure. "Somebody had come into her room without knocking; and, as she had looked around, she had seen her husband standing in the middle of the chamber. He had greeted her politely, asked after her health, and, when she made no reply, seated himself on the divan, as if perfectly at home. In spite of his subdued voice and quiet manner, she had noticed an air of suppressed excitement about him; but, owing to her own agitation, could not determine whether wine or some other cause rendered his look unsteady and his voice grating and harsh. Then he had commenced in a listless way; he would tell her the motive of his visit; he had been robbed in a gambling house in Geneva, and was _sans le sou_. A good friend had paid his steamer fare here. He now wished nothing more than the means of escaping from his _guignon_, and hospitality for that night. He would be satisfied with the sofa. "She had given him whatever she could spare at the moment, a not inconsiderable sum, and commanded him to leave on the instant.--Did she expect any one? He would remember her situation, and not embarrass her. With this he had tried to take her hand, and had looked at her with a smile which almost congealed her blood. And as he appeared firmly determined not to yield, she had gone out under pretence of making arrangements for the night. She implored us to assist her, and protect her from the rascal. "I exchanged a glance with my wife, who had taken the weeping woman in her arms like some sick child; and leaving them thus, I hurried downstairs. "I found the Count indulging in a quiet doze on the soft couch. Since he did not hear me enter, I had sufficient leisure to observe him. His face showed that irresistible drowsiness so apt to seize gamblers after long excitement; the lips were pale; eyelids and nostrils, reddened. Beyond this the perfect type of a _bel homme_, faultlessly attired and thoroughly dissipated.