The young lady rose hastily. Roughly and vehemently she pushed Herr von Stielow back into his chair.
Her face was very pale.
Stielow looked at her with amazement.
"Decline this ill-timed visit," he whispered.
"It is an old acquaintance, whom I have not seen for a long time," she said in a constrained voice, "it is--"
Before she could conclude, the portière of the anteroom was pushed aside and a tall distinguished-looking man of about five-and-thirty entered; his dress was dark in colour, his face was noble, with regular features and the clear pale complexion of the South, his large dark eyes were surpassed in depth of colour only by the blackness of his short hair and moustache.
Count Rivero approached the young lady of the house with the quiet self-possession of a perfect man of the world, whilst his dark eyes shone with a warmer glow.
She offered him her hand, he took it and pressed it to his lips for a longer time than politeness alone required.
This did not escape Herr von Stielow, whose astonishment began to partake of mistrust.
"From a sudden change in my affairs, I am able quite suddenly and unexpectedly to return here much sooner than I expected, and to have the pleasure of again meeting my friends in Vienna. My first greeting naturally is to you, fair lady, the loveliest flower in the wreath of my recollections of Vienna."