"It is their sole merit, my lord; and they have, perhaps, this merit because they come from the bottom of the heart. I go to the jeweler," said Doublet, retiring.
As soon as he was gone, D'Harville paced the floor, his arms folded, his eyes fixed and meditative.
Suddenly his countenance changed; it no longer expressed the content of which the attendant and the old servant had just been the dupe, but a calm, cold, and mournful resolution. After having walked some time, he seated himself, as if overcome by the weight of his troubles, with his face buried in his hands. Then he suddenly arose, wiped away a tear which moistened his burning eyelid, and said, with an effort, "Come, courage."
He wrote letters to several persons about insignificant objects, but in the letters he appointed or put off different meetings several days. This correspondence finished, Joseph came in; he was so gay that he so far forgot himself as to sing in his turn.
"Joseph, you have a very fine voice," said his master smiling.
"So much the worse, my lord, for I never knew it; something sings so loudly within that it must be heard without."
"You will put these letters in the post-office."
"Yes, my lord; but where will you receive these gentlemen?"
"Here in my cabinet; they will smoke after breakfast, and the odor of the tobacco will not reach her lady-ship."
At this moment the noise of a carriage was heard in the courtyard.