Mayenne gave her some mild but evasive reply; and turning with a smile towards St. Real, as they walked on, he said, "You see the post I occupy is not without its cares, and those cares so nicely balanced as to be all equally weighty; for you may judge, by that old woman, that, if the greater cares are more oppressive, the lighter are the more importunate." All these interruptions of their onward progress had occupied no small time; so that the western sky began to look rosy with the summer sunset ere they reached the Hotel de Guise. "Quick! Monsieur de St. Real," said Mayenne, as they entered the vestibule; "quick! for in less than half an hour my sister will expect us at her supper-table." St. Real accordingly retired to his apartments, and changing his dress with all speed, sent down one of his followers to seek out some of the attendants of the Duchess de Montpensier, and discover to what chamber, of all the many in that wide and rambling mansion, he was to bend his steps. Almost immediately after a servant of the Duchess appeared to conduct him; and he was led down the stairs, and through the manifold passages and turnings of the Hotel de Guise, at that particular moment of the day ere factitious light has supplied the place of the blessed sunshine, and when such rays of the set orb as still linger in the sky and find their way through the windows--though as rosy as those of the morning--are melancholy rather than gay. At length the servant opened the door of a small cabinet, and passing through, led St. Real into a larger room beyond, where he left him. Standing near one of the windows at the farther end, and apparently gazing forth with some attention, appeared the figure of a lady in deep mourning. The light was not sufficient for St. Real to distinguish who she was; but her garb showed that it was not Madame de Montpensier, and St. Real was sure that it was not the Duchess de Guise. His heart beat quick, far quicker than he liked--for the heart is sometimes a prophet--and, for a moment, he paused in the midst of the room. The next instant, however, he again advanced: the lady turned as he approached, roused from her reverie by the sound of his footsteps, and St. Real suddenly found himself alone in the chamber with Eugenie de Menancourt. He was not surprised--at least he had no right to be so--for he was prepared to meet Mademoiselle de Menancourt at the Hotel de Guise that night; but it were vain to say that he was not agitated. He knew not why, and he was angry with himself for feelings which he could not, which he would not, perhaps, account for to his own understanding.