"Listen to me," said the Duchess. "Yesterday one of my Neapolitan friends came to see me. He spoke of you, and I did not conceal the interest with which you had inspired me. He told me he had a confidential letter for Count Monte-Leone from his banker, Antonio Lamberti. The man is not so bad as he is thought to be; for, forced to give way before the burden of his obligations, he only pretended to fail. United by friendship, and especially by political opinions, with you, he has saved your fortune, and will send you the income until he can arrange his affairs and send you the capital." "Can this be true?" said the Count, beside himself. "All this can be effected only on certain conditions, that you will answer the letter of Lamberti, which now should be at your hotel." Monte-Leone could not repress his joy. "Rich," said he; "yet rich! Fortune has now its value for _her_ sake." Scarcely had he uttered the last word when the face of the Duchess changed its expression. Her eyes glared with madness, and a mortal pallor covered her face. "Excuse me," said the Count, as he saw this change. This was however but a flash, and by her powerful self-control Mme. de Palma became calm and smiling. She said "convalescents sometimes have relapses. Time is indispensable for a radical cure. The storm has passed, and the old nature reappears but for a moment, and gives place to the new but true friend, who rejoices with you at your unanticipated good fortune. It will secure your happiness." "My friend," added she, reaching out her hand to Monte-Leone, "you must be impatient to ascertain if what I have said is true. Go home, and you will find my prediction correct." "Felina," said the Count, "if your hopes are not realized, if you be not again my good star, I shall not be less grateful to you." "Gratitude is cold, indeed," said Felina. "I ask your friendship." "It is all yours," said the Count. "Well, go now," said the Duchess, with a smile. She was right, for when he reached his hotel, his old and faithful Giacomo, who, since his master's misfortune, had discharged his servants, and now performed all his functions, with the addition of those of valet, factotum, and cook, was busy with preparations for the departure of Monte-Leone. The old man gave him a letter, saying that it had been brought during his absence. The Count opened it, and read as follows: