“You; no doubt of it. You; the intrepid protector of every beautiful and clever woman.” “In the name of goodness, what story have you got hold of now?” “Acknowledged truths, I am well aware. But stay a moment; I am in love.” “You?” “Yes.” “So much the better, my dear comte; tell me all about it.” And De Guiche, afraid that Saint-Aignan might perhaps presently observe the window, where the light was still burning, took the comte’s arm and endeavored to lead him away. “Oh!” said the latter, resisting, “do not take me towards those dark woods, it is too damp there. Let us stay in the moonlight.” And while he yielded to the pressure of De Guiche’s arm, he remained in the flower-garden adjoining the chateau. “Well,” said De Guiche, resigning himself, “lead me where you like, and ask me what you please.” “It is impossible to be more agreeable than you are.” And then, after a moment’s silence, Saint-Aignan continued, “I wish you to tell me something about a certain person in who you have interested yourself.” “And with whom you are in love?” “I will neither admit nor deny it. You understand that a man does not very readily place his heart where there is no hope of return, and that it is most essential he should take measures of security in advance.” “You are right,” said De Guiche with a sigh; “a man’s heart is a very precious gift.” “Mine particularly is very tender, and in that light I present it to you.” “Oh! you are well known, comte. Well?” “It is simply a question of Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.” “Why, my dear Saint-Aignan, you are losing your senses, I should think.” “Why so?” “I have never shown or taken any interest in Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.” “Bah!” “Never.” “Did you not obtain admission for Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente into Madame’s household?” “Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente--and you ought to know it better than any one else, my dear comte--is of a sufficiently good family to make her presence here desirable, and her admittance very easy.” “You are jesting.” “No; and upon my honor I do not know what you mean.” “And you had nothing, then, to do with her admission?” “No.” “You do not know her?” “I saw her for the first time the day she was presented to Madame. Therefore, as I have never taken any interest in her, as I do not know her, I am not able to give you the information you require.” And De Guiche made a movement as though he were about to leave his questioner. “Nay, nay, one moment, my dear comte,” said Saint-Aignan; “you shall not escape me in this manner.” “Why, really, it seems to me that it is now time to return to our apartments.” “And yet you were not going in when I--did not meet, but found you.” “Therefore, my dear comte,” said De Guiche, “as long as you have anything to say to me, I place myself entirely at your service.”