"Possibly it is the powerful odour of these flowers that affects you so peculiarly," suggested M. de Riancourt. "No, it is not that. I hesitate to tell you and my aunt; you will think it so strange and absurd." "Explain, Fedora, I beg of you." "I will, but you will be greatly surprised," responded the young widow with a half-confidential, half-coquettish air. Then, turning to M. de Riancourt, she said, in an undertone: "It seems to me--" "Well, my dear countess?" "That--" "Go on. I beg of you." "That I am dying to marry M. de Saint-Herem." "Madame!" exclaimed the astonished duke, turning crimson with anger. "Madame!" "What is the matter, my dear duke?" asked the princess quickly. "Madame la comtesse," said the duke, forcing a smile, "your jest is--is rather unseemly, to say the least, and--" "Give me your arm, my dear duke," said Madame Zomaloff, with the most natural air imaginable, "for it is late. We ought to have been at the embassy some time ago. It is all your fault, too. How is it that you, who are punctuality personified, did not strike the hour of eleven long ago." "Ah, madame, I am in no mood for laughing," exclaimed the duke, in his most sentimental tones. "How your cruel jest pained me just now! It almost broke my heart." "I had no idea your heart was so vulnerable, my poor friend." "Ah, madame, you are very unjust, when I would gladly give my life for you." "Would you, really? Ah, well, I shall ask no such heroic sacrifice as that on your part, my dear duke." A few minutes afterward, Madame Zomaloff, her aunt, and the duke left the Hôtel Saint-Ramon. Almost at the same instant the stranger who looked so much like an aged mulatto left the palatial dwelling, bewildered by what he had just seen and heard. The clock in a neighbouring church was striking the hour as he descended the steps. "Half-past eleven!" the old man murmured. "I have plenty of time to reach Chaillot before midnight. Ah, what other strange things am I about to hear?" CHAPTER XX. THE RETURN. The old man climbed the hill leading to the Rue de Chaillot, and soon reached the church of that poor and densely populated faubourg. Contrary to custom at that hour, the church was lighted. Through the open door the brilliantly illuminated nave and altar could be plainly seen. Though the edifice was still empty, some solemn ceremony was evidently about to take place, for though midnight was close at hand, there were lights in many of the neighbouring houses, and several groups had assembled on the pavement in front of the church. Approaching one of these groups, the old man listened attentively, and heard the following conversation: "They will be here soon, now." "Yes, for it is almost midnight." "It is a strange hour to be married, isn't it?" "Yes, but when one gets a dowry, one needn't be too particular about the hour." "Who is to be married at this hour, gentlemen?" inquired the old man.