"Massigny fell in love with me after his return from Italy. My husband knew him and introduced him to me as a man of taste and culture. Those two were just made for each other. Massigny was most attentive to me from the first; he gave me some water-colour sketches which he had bought from Schroth, as his own paintings, and talked of music and art in the most divertingly superior manner. One day he sent me an incredibly ridiculous letter. He said, among other things, that I was the best woman in Paris; therefore he wished to be my lover. I showed the letter to my cousin Julie. We were then both very silly, and we resolved to play him a trick. One evening we had several visitors, among them being Massigny. My cousin said to me, 'I am going to read you a declaration of love which I received this morning.' She took the letter and read it amidst peals of laughter.... Poor Massigny!..." Saint-Clair fell on his knees uttering a cry of joy. He seized the Countess's hand and covered it with tears and kisses. Mathilde was surprised beyond measure, and thought at first he had gone mad. Saint-Clair could only murmur, "Forgive me! forgive me!" When he rose to his feet he was radiant; he was happier than on the day when Mathilde had said to him for the first time, "I love you." "I am the guiltiest and most stupid of men," he cried; "for two days I have misjudged you ... and never given you a chance to clear yourself...." "You suspected me?... And of what?" "Oh! idiot that I was!... they told me you had loved Massigny, and--" "Massigny!" and she began to laugh; then soon quickly growing more earnest, "Auguste," she said, "how could you be so foolish as to harbour such suspicions, and so hypocritical as to hide them from me?" Her eyes filled with tears. "I implore you to forgive me." "Of course I forgive you, beloved ... but let me first swear...." "Oh! I believe you, I believe you; do not say any more about it." "But in Heaven's name what put such an improbable notion in your head?" "Nothing, nothing in the world except my accursed temper ... and ... would you believe it? that Etruscan vase which I knew Massigny had given you." The Countess clasped her hands together in amazement, and then she burst into shouts of laughter. "My Etruscan vase! my Etruscan vase!" Saint-Clair was obliged to join in the laughter himself, although great tears rolled down his cheeks. He seized Mathilde in his arms. "I will not let you go," he said, "until you pardon me." "Yes, I forgive you, though you are so foolish," she replied, kissing him tenderly. "You make me very happy to-day; it is the first time I have seen you shed tears, and I thought that you could not weep." Then she struggled from his embrace, and, snatching the Etruscan vase, broke it into a thousand pieces on the floor. It was a valuable and unique work, painted in three colours, and represented the fight between a Lapithe and a Centaur.