"Yes, yes," she cried.
"Well, then, I would have done the same for anybody of your creed, as Herr von Wroblewski can bear witness. He asked me the same question the day before yesterday, and received the same answer."
The magistrate had been listening breathlessly. "It is so, 'pon my honor."
"Thanks! thanks!" Judith murmured, and before the count could hinder she had seized his hand and kissed it.
As Agenor was about to enter his carriage the next minute, the magistrate said, "Will you do me a great favor, my dear count? Wiliszenski, the poet, whom perhaps you know by reputation, is to read us his latest verses quite en famille. As yet there are only five of us, for my wife always invites Judith, though the girl does not seem to care for the poet, preferring to spend the evening alone with the albums, in the next room. May we hope to see you?"
He looked inquiringly into the count's face. The contemptuous glance which he encountered did not disturb him. In fact, he smiled.
The count dropped his eyes. There he stood, his hand on the carriage door, a picture of indecision.
"I regret," he said, finally, "I am engaged for tomorrow evening."
"What a pity!" exclaimed Wroblewski.
The carriage rolled away; he watched it smilingly, and the same smile was on his lips when he went to his wife, and said, "Six guests to-morrow evening."