The baron gallantly advanced to place a chair for the lady. She approached boldly, trying to smile, but her pale face and the reddened semi-circles beneath her blue eyes revealed acute suffering. The duchess must have been beautiful in her prime and her style of dressing showed that she had not given up her claim to attractiveness. Her skirt was of taffeta silk ornamented with narrow lace ruffles. She wore an exquisite dulleta of rare green velvet, bordered with white embroidery mingled with gold and chenille, a large silk English bonnet of such shape as to permit the escape on each side of clusters of curls still golden. A parasol like that which had been last graced by the hand of the Duchess de Barri, of white satin embroidered in violets, completed her outfit. From her left wrist hung a reticule of pearls over satin with a jeweled clasp. She made a court bow to Lecazes and seated herself in the proffered chair with somewhat more than her usual aristocratic manner. "In what can I serve your Grace?" "If you but knew what has happened," she began in an agonized voice. To his querulous look, she resumed: "You had appointed today for the conference which we were to hold regarding the Montereux mines, which form part of the ducal estate of Rousillon. The possession of this property is disputed by the municipality of Montereux on the pretext of prior occupation, and I desire to place my claim in your hands for enforcement, even though it be a matter that does not concern you officially. But if it were not for this engagement with you, I should have come today to earnestly solicit an audience." The baron noted her agitation from the trembling of the rich jewels on her bosom. "Compose yourself," he said almost affectionately, taking in his own one of her gloved hands "Your trouble may not be as serious as you imagine." "You consider me capable of being afflicted over a trifle!" she exclaimed. "Listen; my son has escaped to England." "To England!" ejaculated Lecazes, starting in his seat. "Ah! so you see my distraction is not over a small matter. Yes, to London and slyly, too, for he told me that he was going hunting on Picmort. But as I have eyes, I discovered that the clothes which he had taken were hardly appropriate to the chase and that the guns and bags which were left behind satirically grinned at each other. I then hurried to our bankers and indifferently inquired whether René had ordered money to be sent to him. On being told that a large credit had been placed for him in London, I concluded that my presentiments were well founded." "When did the Marquis leave?" "Four days ago. He should reach London tonight." The baron was not in the habit of showing his feelings, and only a slight contraction of the mouth could be detected as the effect of his chagrin.