Hotel de Russe, Tuesday Morning.
Unfaithful Wife—An engagement at the Tuileries, for the very hour you named, prevents me from meeting you at your appointed time. Write by the messenger who brings this, and tell me when you can see me.
Your wronged husband, Volaski.
While reading this, she shivered as with an ague. When she had finished she crushed it up in her hand and put it in her pocket with the intention of destroying it on the first opportunity.
Then she went to a little ornamental writing-desk that stood in the corner of the room, and took a pencil and a sheet of note paper and wrote these words, without date or signature:
"I was ready to see you this noon. I cannot at this instant tell at what hour I can be certain to be alone; but will find out and let you know in the course of this day."
She placed this note in an envelope, sealed it with a plain seal, and sent it down by the footman to Count Waldemar's messenger.
Then she hurried up to her own bedchamber, rang for her maid, changed her dress for a white wrapper, and threw herself down, exhausted, upon a lounge.
She was almost fainting.
"This must be something like death! Oh, if it were only death!" she sighed, as she closed her eyes.