But at that moment the maid appeared in the doorway. "Monsieur le Comte Dahlborne wishes to know if he may pay his respects to madame?" she said. "Why, of course; show him in," replied Madame Baldimer, with an air of satisfaction; while Albert, whose features contracted when he heard the count's name, exclaimed angrily: "What! you propose to receive that foreigner? And I hoped that I was to enjoy a tête-à-tête with you!" "Have we not time enough to see each other again? The count was told that I was in; to refuse to receive him would be discourteous." "Ah! madame, if you had taken any pleasure in hearing me speak of my love----" "I do--but the world insists upon the observance of certain proprieties which we cannot disregard. Besides, this foreigner is so gallant----" "Too gallant with you, in my opinion, and his frequent visits----" "Hush, here he is!" Count Dahlborne entered the salon, with the stiff, formal, pretentious air which he always maintained. He had several decorations in his buttonhole, and all the manners of a person of good breeding; but his long, surly face, even when he tried to be affable, seemed destined to put pleasure and love to flight. However, Madame Baldimer greeted him with a charming smile; he kissed her hand, bowed solemnly to Albert, and seated himself in an armchair, like a wooden man moved by springs. "It is very good of you, monsieur le comte, to think of coming to see me," said the pretty widow, mincingly. The Swede bowed, and replied with the utmost seriousness: "Oh! I think of it all the time." "You gentlemen who are in diplomacy, in politics, have very little time to give to the ladies; so that they should be highly flattered when it occurs to you to give a thought to them." "Oh! I give many thoughts to them." Albert could hardly restrain a smile at the Swede's phlegm and his laconic utterances, and he did not say a word, being curious to see if his conversation would continue in the same tone. But Madame Baldimer was too shrewd not to try to make the count talk more freely. She addressed him again. "How did you like the last opéra-comique? We met there the night before last, you know." "I don't remember it at all," replied Monsieur Dahlborne, after apparently trying to recall the incident. "I should judge, then, that you didn't enjoy it very much." The Swede made no reply, but felt in his coat pocket and produced a superb fan of some rare and valuable wood, beautifully carved, and enriched with inlaid work. He presented it to Madame Baldimer, saying: "I broke yours at the theatre; will you allow me to replace it?" The fair American took the fan and gazed at it with an enraptured expression. "Oh! really, Monsieur Dahlborne," she cried, "this is too beautiful. I don't know whether I ought to accept it; it is simply magnificent! What workmanship! what exquisite finish! it is perfectly lovely! I cannot take it in exchange for the one I had."