"Madam!" he said below his breath.
"Well?" she whispered defiantly. She had her teeth in her handkerchief, and was tearing it to rags; her thin cheeks were flushed carmine, her eyes excitedly bright. "I heard what passed; what do you think of him now?"
"I am sorry for you," he answered in a shamed voice, "that you—should—do this."
The Countess laid her hand on his sleeve.
"Ah! you spoke for me!" she said exultingly. "And I could kiss your feet for it; but, hush!—--"
"He comes," interrupted Marius in an agony. "Shall he find us whispering behind his doors?"
She drew back.
"Come to Grafton's mask," she replied. "I will send you a note of my dress."
She turned swiftly and in a light noiselessness sped up the wide quiet stairs.
Marius stood still beneath the gentle glow of the silver lamp; so she took him for her champion—she bound him to her service—it had come to notes and appointments.