Strange to say, Monsieur de Villardin, awake to the slightest word in other instances, and suspicious where there was no cause, was in the present case totally blind, long after Madame de Villardin herself had become aware of the designs of their visiter. He had known the Count de Mesnil as a mere boy, and he still looked upon him as such. This might be one cause of his blindness; but, in truth, I believe, there is also a sort of fatality in such cases, or rather a madness, which, to a suspicious mind, makes truth look like falsehood, and falsehood appear to be truth. I felt very much for Madame de Villardin, whose situation appeared to be painful in the extreme; and whose conduct towards the Count de Mesnil, as far, at least, as I could see, was now faultless; but, of course, I dared not say a word to open the eyes of my lord upon such a subject, without having some decided fact to warrant my interference. In this state of affairs, nearly two months more passed over our heads, without any circumstance occurring to change my own situation or that of the other parties; Monsieur de Villardin continuing extremely partial to the society of his young neighbour, and the Duchess, on the contrary, treating him with a degree of cold haughtiness which approached towards rudeness. At length, one morning, shortly after the Count de Mesnil, who had been upon a visit at the Prés Vallée, had left the house, in order, as it seemed, to return home, Monsieur de Villardin set out on horseback, intending to proceed to Rennes, accompanied by myself, Gaspard de Belleville, and one or two grooms. When we were about a mile and a half from the château, however, he suddenly remembered that a packet, referring to the business which called him to the city, had been left on the table of his library; and, as it was of some importance, he directed me to ride back and bring it to him at Rennes. I accordingly lost no time in returning to the Prés Vallée; but was somewhat surprised, when about half a mile from the house, to remark a horse, which I very well recognised as that of the Count de Mesnil, tied to one of the old trees which I have before described. I had taken a short cut across the meadows, which deviation from the high road had led me through a part of the grounds that, lying at a distance from any of the ordinary paths, was generally very lonely: but, in truth, when I beheld this sight, I wished that I had pursued any other way; for I apprehended, and not without cause, that I might soon be placed in one of the most painful situations that it is possible to conceive. I had, however, but one task to perform--to do the errand on which I was sent; but, in order to see as little as possible, I rode to the back of the château, and, entering from the offices, went up by one of the back staircases into the library. That room, however, opened again into the small saloon, and the door by which I entered fronted the other, which was