'If Madame la Comtesse would----' 'Would what? speak out, boy; what are you thinking of?' 'Would pardon me, and excuse this confusion; for my soul is full of nothing but perplexity and admiration.' Thus did the magic of this woman's beauty sway me against my reason, while I despised her position in my heart--a heart, moreover, that was not ungrateful. She burst into a fit of merry laughter. 'Ma foi! my dear young friend, my Scottish provincial, you will make your fortune if you only continue as you have begun. A year in the Scottish guard will make you a more accomplished chevalier than the Marquis de Gordon himself! Really, without knowing it, you already act like a finished courtier.' 'I will study to improve this acting, and if madame will only permit to kiss her hand----' 'Tush, you silly boy, we are quite alone; your heart is full of gratitude, and you would only kiss my hand. What a timid little child it is!' I kissed her on the cheek, and felt her soft perfumed hair sweep across my forehead, as, tremulous with delight and emotion, I drew back, abashed by my own temerity, for I was but a boy; and the warning of the kind Marquis tingled in my ears and in my heart. 'Poor child; it looks quite frightened,' said the Countess, smiling with the most provoking coolness. 'Madame, I have a king for my rival.' 'Take courage.' 'I have never lacked it.' 'He who loses heart, loses all, in a game of this kind at least. From this time we are allies, sworn friends; when you visit me again, do not enter by the porte cochère, but by the secret door at the back of the château, _remember_.' At that moment I perceived the fair form of the Countess's golden-haired attendant, standing close by the arras which she had raised unbidden. She must have seen some portion of the last episode; for her fine eyes were fixed, I thought, somewhat pityingly on me, and disdainfully on her mistress. This little provincial in her plain coif was delicately beautiful in face, hands, and form; but eclipsed and overshadowed as she was by the brilliance and vivacity of the demonstrative Countess, I took but little notice of her then. The moment she perceived Nicola, Madame d'Amboise coloured, and said to me rather sharply, 'Farewell, M. Arthur; you must now keep your appointment in Paris with M. le Marquis and the Marechal de Logis of the Scottish Guard; and remember that when all is arranged, I shall always be delighted to see you at the Château d'Amboise.' She rang a handbell, and Antoine appeared. 'Tell the master of the stables to give this gentleman my bay horse Dagobert, which he will please to keep as a gift from me. Now go, M. Arthur; and by the haste with which you return, I shall judge of your regard and your gratitude. Adieu.' In ten minutes more I was on the road to Paris.