The countess watched every motion of this lady through the window with nervous trepidation, as if she half expected that she would enter the palace. In her anxiety she leaned out of the window so far as to become visible. The man who stood just behind her saw that the Dauphiness was seriously annoyed. The quick crimson flashed over her face, and she turned to retrace her steps with a queenly lift of the head, haughty as it was graceful. An exclamation, so fierce that it amounted to an oath, broke from the countess; a flame of angry crimson rushed over her face, and with a rude gesture, she flung herself away from the window. “You saw this Austrian, how haughtily she turned away, as if contamination lingered in the very walls of any place I live in. Yes, as you said just now, I am one of the people, that is why she dashes that whip against her dress, as if beating away the dust of my presence from her garments. Tell me, you who profess to know everything, is it strange that I hate her?” Dr. Gosner took no heed of this question; he was gazing after the group of ladies, silent and absorbed, while the countess paced the room to and fro, panting with noisy rage. Not till a winding path hid the group from view did he leave the window, or become aware of the angry storm that lovely woman had provoked. “You saw her—you saw that proud lift of the head when she discovered me, as if I were the dirt under her feet, and she treading me down with her heels. Oh! she shall pay for this!” “Yes,” said the doctor, gently. “I have seen her once before in Vienna. She was very young, then, and far less beautiful. It is the Dauphiness of France. Poor lady! Poor, unhappy lady!” “Ha! You speak as if the things they tell me were true; as if your divination had found out some great misfortune in store for her. Is it so? Is it so? I would give this right hand to be sure of it.” “Madame, I cannot answer.” “But you shall!” The doctor smiled very gravely, but in a way that exasperated the woman, who usually found slaves to her will on every side. “You brave me! You will do nothing that I desire!” “I will do anything honorable that appertains to yourself, madame.” “Then sit down here. I would test your power, let it come from what source it will. Tell me of my own fate?” “If you insist, madame, I will.” The countess went to a table, and began to array writing materials upon it; but finding no pen, she rang a bell, all crusted with jewels, and the figure of a dwarf, in a fanciful costume, presented itself at the door. “Bring me a pen, Zamara, and see that no one approaches nearer than the ante-room.” The dwarf went out, making a bow, as he walked backward, so deep, that it amounted almost to an Oriental salam. “That little marmoset is the only true friend I have at court, the only creature I can really trust,” said the countess; and a gleam of light softened the haughty boldness of her face. “I think he loves me! Yes, I think he loves me!”