This question was induced by the entrance of Emanuel’s valet-de-chambre; who had half opened the door, and remained upon the threshold, waiting, as was then the custom of all servants in great houses, till his master should address him. “What is it? repeated Emanuel. “Mademoiselle Marguerite d’ Auray requests that Monsieur, the Baron de Lectoure, will honor her with a private interview.” “Me!” said Lectoure, rising from the sofa, “certainly, with the greatest pleasure.” “But no! it is a mistake!” exclaimed Emanuel; “you must be mistaken, Celestin.” “I have the honor to assure your lordship,” replied the valet de chambre, “that I have correctly and faithfully executed the order which was given to me.” “Impossible!” said Emanuel, uneasy to the highest degree, at the step his sister had ventured to take: “Baron, if you will be advised by me, you will send the little simpleton about her business.” “By no means! by no means,” replied Lectoure. “What does this bluebeard of a brother mean? Celestin! Did you not call this lad, Celestin?” Emanuel impatiently bowed his head in the affirmative. “Well then, Celestin, tell my lovely betrothed that I throw myself at her knees, at her feet, and that I await her orders either to go to her or to receive her here;--and there, take this for the charges of your embassy.” He threw him his purse. “And you, count,” rejoined Lectoure, “I trust that you have confidence enough in me, to permit this _ tête-à-tête?_” “But it is so perfectly absurd!” “Not at all,” replied Lectoure; “on the contrary, it is perfectly befitting. I am not a crowned head, that I should marry a woman upon her portrait, and by proxy. I wish to see her in person. Come, Emanuel,” he continued, pushing his friend toward a side door, that he might not meet his sister--“Come, now, tell me frankly--in confidence, between ourselves--is there any--deformity?” “Why, no, by heaven!” replied the young count, “no--on the contrary, she is as lovely as an angel.” “Well, then!” said the baron, “what does all this opposition mean? Come, now, begone, or must I call my guards?” “No; but on my word, I am afraid that this little simpleton, who has not the slightest notion of the world, is coming to destroy all that has been arranged between us.” “Oh! if that is all you fear,” replied Lectoure, opening the door, “you may be perfectly at ease. I like the brother too well not to look over some caprice--some extraordinary fantasies in the sister--and I pledge you my word as a gentleman, unless the devil should play us some strange trick, (whom, I trust, is at this moment fully occupied in some other corner of the world!) that Mademoiselle Marguerite d’Auray, shall be Madame the Baroness de Lectoure, and that in a month you shall have your regiment.”