What was really the matter of his conversation with his mother and the count? Very different from that which he represented it. With his mother he laughed merrily over the artifices which he practised. "Ah! give me a woman," he cried, "for seeing into a woman's heart. I have all along mistaken this girl's character. From her light indifference and coquettish gaiety, I had thought to deal with her in the same way; but now I find, that she is all sentiment and tenderness, forsooth. If I had before possessed a clue to the little labyrinth of her heart, I should have easily found my way in." To the Count de Liancourt, he maintained a different tone; pointed out the apparent terms of confidence which existed between Rose and himself; represented her reluctance as, in the main, affected, and merely assumed out of respect for what she considered propriety; insinuated that she would be rather pleased than not, to be the apparent victim of compulsion, in a matter where her own inclinations and her respect for appearances were at variance; and he took care to confirm the impression thus produced, by drawing from Rose replies in a low voice, to whispered questions which he affected to wish withheld from the ear of the Count. Thus passed by several hours at different times of the day. But during the rest, Rose remained in her chamber, plunged in deep reveries, and puzzled and doubtful reflections, seeking some light in the maze that surrounded her, often looking to the future with a shudder of dread, and often contemplating the past with bitter tears, but still hearing a voice that whispered, "De Montigni is not dead." CHAPTER XXV.