"Good-morning, Count Manteuffel," said she, smiling. "Really you are as punctual as if coming to a rendezvous with your lady love."
"Tempi passali!" sighed the count. "I am married,"
"So am I," said the lady, laughing; "that is, however, no reason why—"
"You should not still have ardent and devoted admirers." said the count, interrupting her. "But you are still young and beautiful, while I have grown old. Tell me, kind lady, by what, art you have preserved the charming freshness of youth, and those bright and sparkling eyes by which I was so completely enslaved when I still had a heart?"
The lady gave him a penetrating, mocking look. "Count Manteuffel," said she, "you are so friendly, and your adoration is of so profound a nature, that you undoubtedly have some very particular favor to solicit at my hands. But come, let us enter that little pavilion; there we will find comfortable seats, and be secure from all interruption."
They passed silently along the wall to the pavilion, to which the same key gave access which had before opened the garden door.
"Here we are safe," said the lady, throwing back the lace veil which had concealed her face. "Come, count, let us be seated; and now tell me why you desired this meeting, and why it is that your valet was not sent as usual to deliver your letters and to receive mine?"
"I had an irresistible longing to see you, to behold once more your lovely countenance," said the count, with a deep sigh.
"But just now you said you had no heart," said the lady, laughing.
"You are the enchantress who recalls it to life. Really you do credit to your name, and, thanks to Madame Brandt, my heart is again in flames."