“No, madam. The very little I do know of him personally would induce me to suppose the opposite.”
She shook her head, and gave a faint supercilious smile, as though in total disbelief of my words.
“If you have read my memoir, madam,” said I, hastily, “you will perceive how few have been the occasions of my meeting with the Count, and that, whatever his politics, I may be excused for not knowing them.”
“You say that you went along with him to Paris?”
“Yes, madam, and never saw him afterwards.”
“You have heard from him, however, and are, in fact, in correspondence with him?”
“No, madam, nothing of the kind.”
As I said this, she threw the paper indignantly on the table, and walked away to the window. The minister followed her, and said something in a low whisper, to which she replied aloud,—
“Well, it's not my opinion. Time will tell which of us was more right.”
“Tell me something of the condition of parties in France,” said he, drawing his chair in front of mine. “Are the divisions as wide as heretofore?”