“Pardon me for keeping you waiting, my dear count. But this terrible misfortune has upset me so much that I am quite ill and ought not to have left my room.”
“Good Heaven! my dear Lady Kingsbury, what has happened?” exclaimed Frederick, with an air of the most profound surprise.
“Oh! it is too, too awful! My poor, poor Alice! Colonel Clery has been found dead in his room this morning!”
“Dead! dead! Colonel Clery! Great God! Why, I left him in perfect health a few hours ago! What could have caused his death?”
“Heart disease, I presume; though nobody who saw him would ever have believed him to be subject thereto. When his servant entered his rooms this morning he found him lying on the lounge, still wearing his evening dress. Surprised at such a proceeding on the part of a man who was as regular and methodical in his habits as was his master, the valet approached the sofa and attempted to rouse him. But he was dead! and the doctor, who was immediately called in, declared that he must have been so for some hours,” concluded Lady Kingsbury, bursting into fresh tears.
“This is really terrible,” said Frederick, with a display of considerable emotion. “I cannot tell you how shocked I am! One could not help being fond of Colonel Clery. He was a man in a thousand, and though our acquaintance was so short I feel his loss as that of an old and dear friend. Will you think me indiscreet if I ask how Lady Alice bears this crushing blow?”
“Don't talk about it,” sobbed the marchioness, “I almost fear that she will go out of her mind. Her otherwise cold and indifferent nature was centered in Charlie, whom she had loved for several years. Her father at first objected to the match, having looked higher for his eldest daughter. But he had to give way before the unwavering constancy of the two young people. I don't know what is to become of Alice now. It breaks my very heart to see her silent despair!”
“I will not keep you away from her any longer. She needs your loving care and sympathy,” said Frederick, rising. “I trust that you will forgive my intrusion on your sorrow, and that you will tell me frankly if I can be of any use to you. Dispose of me entirely. You have been so kind to me that I should deem it a great favor to be able to be of service to you.”
“Thank you so much, my dear M. de Vaugelade. It is very kind of you to say so. Don't think that I am sending you away. I hope you will come soon again, but I really am afraid that I cannot bear much more this morning.”