perhaps gaining courage from seeing that his own cheek was flushed, and that his own voice trembled as he addressed her. "A thousand, thousand pardons, lady!" he said, standing bareheaded by the door, "for stopping your carriage in the streets; but these unfortunate wars have rendered it so long since we have met, that most anxious am I----!" "My lord Count d'Aubin," replied Beatrice, raising her head proudly, "the time of your absence from Paris has not seemed to me so long as to make me rejoice that it is at an end!" "I have no right to expect another answer," replied D'Aubin, in a low voice; "and yet, Beatrice, perhaps I could say something in my own defence." "Which I should be most unwilling to hear," replied the lady, coldly. "I doubt not, sir Count, that you can say much in your own defence: I never yet knew man that could not, but a plain idiot, or one born dumb. But what is your defence to me? I am neither your judge nor your accuser. If your own heart charges you with ambition, or avarice, or falsehood, plead your cause with it, and, doubtless, you will meet with a most lenient judge. Will you bid the coachman drive on, sir? this is a foolish interruption, and a narrow street." "Oh, Beatrice!" exclaimed the Count d'Aubin, piqued by her coldness, "at least delay one moment, till you tell me you are well and happy: I have just heard that you have been ill--very ill." "I have, sir," she replied; "I caught the fever that was prevalent here; but I am well again, as you see, and should be perfectly happy, if I did not hear King Henry's artillery above once a week, and if people would not stop my carriage in the streets." "And is that all you will say to me, Beatrice?" asked the Count, in the same low tone which he had hitherto used--"is that all you will say, after all that has passed?" "I know nothing, sir, that has passed between us," replied Beatrice aloud, "except that once or twice, in a fit of wine or folly, you vowed that you loved Beatrice of Ferrara better than life, or wealth, or rank, or station; and that she received those vows as she has done a thousand others, from a thousand brighter persons than Philip Count d'Aubin, namely, as idle words, which foolish men will speak to foolish women, for want of better wit and more pleasant conversation; as words which you had probably spoken to a hundred others, before you spoke them to me, and which you will yet, in all probability, speak to a hundred more, who will believe them just as much as I did, and forget them quite as soon. Once more, sir, then, will you order the coachman to drive on, or let me do so, and retire from the wheel, lest it strike you, and the Catholic League lose a valiant convert by an ignoble death?"