And, opening the broad glass doors, he began walking in front of M. de Tregars, along a staircase with marble railing, the elegant proportions of which were absolutely ruined by a ridiculous profusion of “objects of art” of all nature, and from all sources. This staircase led to a vast semicircular landing, upon which, between columns of precious marble, opened three wide doors. The footman opened the middle one, which led to M. de Thaller’s picture-gallery, a celebrated one in the financial world, and which had acquired for him the reputation of an enlightened amateur. But M. de Tregars had no time to examine this gallery, which, moreover, he already knew well enough. The footman showed him into the small drawing-room of the baroness, a bijou of a room, furnished in gilt and crimson satin. “Will M. le Marquis be kind enough to take a seat?” he said. “I run to notify Mme. le Baronne of M. le Marquis’s visit.” The footman uttered these titles of nobility with a singular pomp, and as if some of their lustre was reflected upon himself. Nevertheless, it was evident that “Marquis” jingled to his ear much more pleasantly than “Baronne.” Remaining alone, M. de Tregars threw himself upon a seat. Worn out by the emotions of the day, and by an extraordinary contention of mind, he felt thankful for this moment of respite, which permitted him, at the moment of a decisive step, to collect all his energy and all his presence of mind. And after two minutes he was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts, that he started, like a man suddenly aroused from his sleep, at the sound of an opening door. At the same moment he heard a slight exclamation of surprise, “Ah!” Instead of the Baroness de Thaller, it was her daughter, Mlle. Cesarine, who had come in. Stepping forward to the centre of the room, and acknowledging by a familiar gesture M. de Tregars’ most respectful bow, “You should warn people,” she said. “I came here to look for my mother, and it is you I find. Why, you scared me to death. What a crack! Princess dear!” And taking the young man’s hand, and pressing it to her breast, “Feel,” she added, “how my heart beats.”