“Day for day, hour for hour,” said Albert; “that will suit me to a dot.”
“So be it, then,” replied the count, and extending his hand towards a calendar, suspended near the chimney-piece, he said, “today is the 21st of February;” and drawing out his watch, added, “it is exactly half-past ten o’clock. Now promise me to remember this, and expect me the 21st of May at the same hour in the forenoon.”
“Capital!” exclaimed Albert; “your breakfast shall be waiting.”
“Where do you live?”
“No. 27, Rue du Helder.”
“Have you bachelor’s apartments there? I hope my coming will not put you to any inconvenience.”
“I reside in my father’s house, but occupy a pavilion at the farther side of the courtyard, entirely separated from the main building.”
“Quite sufficient,” replied the count, as, taking out his tablets, he wrote down “No. 27, Rue du Helder, 21st May, half-past ten in the morning.”
“Now then,” said the count, returning his tablets to his pocket, “make yourself perfectly easy; the hand of your time-piece will not be more accurate in marking the time than myself.”
“Shall I see you again ere my departure?” asked Albert.