It was late on the following morning before any of the guests assembled at the breakfast-table; but when the whole had met, the party was so large, that but little pleasant conversation could take place with any one. The Duke de Rouvré paid the greatest attention to the Count, and displayed a marked anxiety to distinguish and to please him. Clémence de Marly was entirely surrounded by her little train; and her pleasure in the homage she received seemed evident to Albert of Morseiul. The Chevalier d'Evran was somewhat thoughtful and grave, and more than once turned his eyes quickly from the face of Clémence to that of his friend. In the hours that had lately passed, however, Albert of Morseiul had practised the lesson of commanding himself, which he had learnt long before, and he was now perfect at the task. He took no notice whatsoever of the fair girl's demeanour towards others; and though, as usual, calm and grave, he bore his part in the conversation with earnestness and attention; and it so happened that on more than one occasion something was said which called up the deep poetical fire of his nature, and led him briefly to pour forth in eloquent words the fine and high-toned feelings of his heart. All who were present knew his high character, and all were struck with his words and with his manner; so that once or twice, even when speaking casually on things of no very great importance, he was annoyed at finding a sudden deep silence spread round the table, and every one listening to what he said. If any thing could have repaid him for the annoyance, it might have been to see the lustrous eyes of Clémence de Marly fixed intent upon his countenance till they met his, and then dropped with a slight heightening of the colour, or turned sparkling to those round her, while her lips gave utterance to some gay jest, intended to cover the fit of eager attention in which she had been detected. Alas, however, it must be owned, that to find those eyes so gazing upon him was no compensation, but rather was painful to Albert of Morseiul; for it only served to encourage feelings which he was determined to conquer. He would fain have had it otherwise; he would have felt nothing but calm indifference towards Clémence de Marly; and yet he knew, from what he had experienced on the preceding night, that he did not feel towards her entirely as he did towards other women. He thought, however, that by dedicating himself altogether to the great and important subject which had filled his thoughts when he came to Poitiers, by giving up all his thoughts to that, and by making his stay as brief as possible, he should be enabled to avoid those things, both in the society of Clémence herself, and in his own inmost thoughts, which might become dangerous to his peace.