"No, no, Huon!" replied the Count, while his brow and cheek grew as red as fire. "No, no! I thank you for your kindness, good cousin; but there are many causes which make it as necessary to me as life, that Eugenie de Menancourt should become my wife. Why, think," he continued, raising his tone, "I should become the talk and the pity of all Paris!--the laughing-stock of every friend I have!" St. Real bent down his eyes without reply, merely muttering to himself the word, "Friend!" while his cousin went on. "What I wish then, Huon, is this, that you would return to Paris, and seeing Eugenie, represent to her that my claim to her hand in consequence of her father's promise is indubitable; that I would sooner part with life than resign that claim; and that, in order to atone for aught I may have done to offend her, and to remove whatever objections she may have, I will change my course of living, cast from me those faults that appear so much blacker in her eyes than in those of our fair dames in the capital, and live a life as pure and holy as any nun was ever reputed to do, if she will promise at the end of a certain period to fulfil her father's engagement towards me. Will you do this for me, Huon, and exert all your eloquence?" "Philip, it would be in vain," replied St. Real; "last night, I said all that I could say in your behalf--I promised even more for you than I well knew that you would perform--on my life, on my honour, Philip, I urged all that could be urged in your exculpation and in your favour; but she remained firm; and nothing I could say made any change in her replies. Your conduct, she said, had produced its natural effect; that effect was not to be effaced. Her father's promise was conditional; and, free from any engagement herself, she was resolved, she said, never to give her hand to one who had not sought her affection, and did not----" St. Real hesitated, but his cousin finished the sentence boldly for him. "And did not possess her esteem, or deserve her love, or something of that kind," he said; "all that she told me before! It is but the ringing of the same chime! But by Heavens! it shall go hard if I do not find means to ring that chime backwards! Yet, listen, St. Real; yesterday, you were not empowered by me to say anything, and therefore she might doubt. I now empower you on my part to vow constancy, and promise amendment, and so forth. Will you undertake it?--will you go?" "No, Philip, no," replied St. Real, in a tone of firm determination, "I will not; I love Eugenie de Menancourt too well myself, to cheat her with promises made in so light a tone as that. Nay, frown not on me, Philip d'Aubin, for you shall hear more, that you may never say your cousin deceived you. I refuse to go back to Eugenie to plead your cause, not alone because I believe it to be both a bad and a hopeless one, but, because I feel that it would be dangerous to my own peace; and might make me unhappy without serving you."