At this moment they heard voices; Stidmann and Wenceslas were seeing Chanor to the door; then Wenceslas and Stidmann came in again. Stidmann, an artist in vogue in the world of journalists, famous actresses, and courtesans of the better class, was a young man of fashion whom Valerie much wished to see in her rooms; indeed, he had already been introduced to her by Claude Vignon. Stidmann had lately broken off an intimacy with Madame Schontz, who had married some months since and gone to live in the country. Valerie and Lisbeth, hearing of this upheaval from Claude Vignon, thought it well to get Steinbock’s friend to visit in the Rue Vanneau. Stidmann, out of good feeling, went rarely to the Steinbocks’; and as it happened that Lisbeth was not present when he was introduced by Claude Vignon, she now saw him for the first time. As she watched this noted artist, she caught certain glances from his eyes at Hortense, which suggested to her the possibility of offering him to the Countess Steinbock as a consolation if Wenceslas should be false to her. In point of fact, Stidmann was reflecting that if Steinbock were not his friend, Hortense, the young and superbly beautiful countess, would be an adorable mistress; it was this very notion, controlled by honor, that kept him away from the house. Lisbeth was quick to mark the significant awkwardness that troubles a man in the presence of a woman with whom he will not allow himself to flirt. “Very good-looking--that young man,” said she in a whisper to Hortense. “Oh, do you think so?” she replied. “I never noticed him.” “Stidmann, my good fellow,” said Wenceslas, in an undertone to his friend, “we are on no ceremony, you and I--we have some business to settle with this old girl.” Stidmann bowed to the ladies and went away. “It is settled,” said Wenceslas, when he came in from taking leave of Stidmann. “But there are six months’ work to be done, and we must live meanwhile.” “There are my diamonds,” cried the young Countess, with the impetuous heroism of a loving woman. A tear rose in Wenceslas’ eye. “Oh, I am going to work,” said he, sitting down by his wife and drawing her on to his knee. “I will do odd jobs--a wedding chest, bronze groups----” “But, my children,” said Lisbeth; “for, as you know, you will be my heirs, and I shall leave you a very comfortable sum, believe me, especially if you help me to marry the Marshal; nay, if we succeed in that quickly, I will take you all to board with me--you and Adeline. We should live very happily together.--But for the moment, listen to the voice of my long experience. Do not fly to the Mont-de-Piete; it is the ruin of the borrower. I have always found that when the interest was due, those who had pledged their things had nothing wherewith to pay up, and then all is lost. I can get you a loan at five per cent on your note of hand.” “Oh, we are saved!” said Hortense.