She waited all the forenoon in expectation of receiving a note from the Count de Volaski, either accepting her appointment or arranging another one; but when the clock struck the hour of noon without her having heard from him, she naturally concluded that he meant to answer her note in person, by coming at the hour named. So she went down into the small drawing-room to be ready to receive him.
She was right in her conclusions; for she had scarcely been seated five minutes when a footman entered and presented the count's card.
"Show the gentleman up," she said in a voice that she vainly tried to render steady.
A few minutes passed, the door opened, and Count de Volaski entered the room.
She arose to receive him, but did not advance a single step to meet him.
He came on, and bowed low—much lower than any ceremony required.
She bent her head, and silently pointed to a chair at a short distance.
He sat down.
Up to this time not a word had passed between them.
A monk and a nun, who keep their vows, could not have met more coldly than this pair who had once plighted their hands and hearts in marriage before the altar of the Church of St. Marie.