"Yes, sir. She has an appointment with me; so, good-morning."
"Not a word of this, sir," said Saint Remy, in a threatening tone.
"I have told you, sir, that a notary was as discreet as a confessor."
Jacques Ferrand rang the bell, and the clerk appeared.
"Show in her ladyship." Then, addressing the viscount, he added, "Take these thirteen hundred francs, sir; it will be so much on account with M. Petit Jean."
Lady d'Orbigny (formerly Madame Roland) entered as the viscount went out, his features contracted with rage for having uselessly humiliated himself before the notary.
"Oh, good-morning, Saint Remy!" said the countess; "it is a long time since I have seen you."
"Yes, madame; since the marriage of D'Harville, of which I was a witness, I have not had the honor to meet you," said Saint Remy, bowing, and suddenly assuming a most smiling and affable expression. "Since then, you have always remained in Normandy?"
"Dear me! yes. M. d'Orbigny cannot live now but in the country; and where he lives, I live. Thus you see in me a true 'county lady.' I have not been to Paris since the marriage of my dear step-daughter with excellent D'Harville. Do you see him often?"
"D'Harville has become very savage and very morose. I meet him very seldom in society," said Saint Remy, with a shade of impatience; for this conversation was insupportable, both from its inopportuneness, and because the notary seemed to be much amused. But the stepmother of Madame d'Harville, enchanted at this meeting with a beau of society, was not the woman to let her prey escape so easily.