Monsieur Vermoncey listened with a distraught air to his host's comments; his eyes had met those of the fair American, and, as he looked at her, he was conscious of a sentiment which he could not understand; was it simply admiration of Madame Baldimer's beauty? was it curiosity? did the sight of her awaken bitter memories in his heart? He was unable to answer any of these questions; but as Monsieur Grazcernitz started upon a grandiloquent eulogium of a small boy of nine, who, it was said, already played the violin like Paganini, Monsieur Vermoncey interrupted him. "I beg your pardon, Monsieur Grazcernitz; but who is the lady sitting opposite us and looking at us at this moment?" "That lady," replied the host, motioning to the boy to come to him, "why, she's a very fine woman, indeed: tall and beautiful and well built.--He plays on the fourth string variations on the air of _Le Roi d'Yvetot_ which are simply fascinating, they say." "Pardon my inquisitiveness, but there is an expression on that lady's features which seems familiar to me." "She's a very fashionable woman! All the men are in love with her!--He can do something wonderful, too, on the treble string--also after the style of Paganini." "But her name, if you please?" "Little Adolphe Kromiousky; he's a Pole." "I ask you the name of the lady sitting opposite us." "Oh! that is Madame Baldimer, commonly known in society as the fair American." "Madame Baldimer! Can it be that---- Ah! I am not surprised that the sight of her caused me an emotion that I could not understand! So that is Madame Baldimer!" "Do you know her?" "Oh! no, not I! But my son was very much in love with her; he fought a duel for her." "That doesn't surprise me. As I tell you, she turns the heads of all the men." "And it seems that she takes pleasure in causing her adorers to fight among themselves. Ah! I no longer consider her beautiful; I can't bear to look at her." "Was your son wounded?" "No, thank heaven! but he might have been killed, and that woman's coquetry would have robbed me of my only remaining child." "Would you like me to present little Adolphe Kromiousky?" "Anything that will give you pleasure." And Monsieur Vermoncey rose and walked hastily into another room, in his eagerness to shun the presence of Madame Baldimer. His host followed him, calling after him: "Why, where are you going? young Kromiousky is in that room. He won't play anything this evening; but he is studying a fine piece of Paganini's, which he will play on a violin that belonged to Paganini." Monsieur Vermoncey seated himself in a salon where people were singing and playing the piano; he had been there but a short time, when he saw that Madame Baldimer had again taken a seat facing him, and that her eyes were almost always turned in his direction.