Entreaties, threats, and even a bribe of one hundred francs were alike useless; and Andre, seeing that he was about to be checkmated, was half tempted to take the men by the collar and hurl them on one side, but he calmed himself, and, already repenting of his violence at Verminet’s, he determined on a course of submission, and so meekly followed the footmen into the famous waiting-room, styled by Van Klopen his purgatory. The footmen, however, had spoken the truth, for several ladies of the highest rank and standing were awaiting the return of this _arbiter elegantiarum_. All of them turned as the young men entered--all save one, who was gazing out of the window, drawing with her pretty fingers on the window panes. Andre recognized her in an instant as Madame de Bois Arden. “Is it possible?” thought he. “Can the Countess have returned here after what has occurred?” Gaston felt that five charming pairs of eyes were fixed upon him, and studied to assume his most graceful posture. After a brief time given to arrangement, Andre grew disgusted. “I wish that she would look round,” said he to himself. “I think she would feel rather ashamed. I will say a word to her.” He rose from his chair, and, without thinking how terribly he might compromise the lady, he took up a position at her side. She was, however, intently watching something that was going on in the street, and did not turn her head. “Madame,” said he. She started, and, as she turned and recognized Andre, she uttered a little cry of surprise. “Great heavens! is that you?” “Yes, it is I.” “And here? I dare say that my presence in this place surprises you,” she went on, “and that I have a short memory, and no feelings of pride.” Andre made no reply, and his silence was a sufficient rejoinder to the question. “You do me a great injustice,” muttered the Countess. “I am here because De Breulh told me that in your interests I ought to pardon Van Klopen, and go to him again as I used to do; so you see, M. Andre, that it is never safe to judge by appearance, and a woman more than anything else.” “Will you forgive me?” asked Andre earnestly. The lady interrupted him by a little wave of her hand, invisible to all save to him, which clearly said,-- “Take care; we are not alone.” She once more turned her eyes towards the street, and he mechanically did the same. By this means their faces were hidden from observation. “De Breulh,” went on the lady, “has heard a good deal about De Croisenois, and, as no doubt you can guess, but very little to his credit, and quite enough to justify any father in refusing him his daughter’s hand; but in this case it is evident to me that De Mussidan is yielding to a secret pressure. We must ferret out some hidden crime in De Croisenois’ past which will force him to withdraw his proposal.” “I shall find one,” muttered Andre.