"Very well! if it's the count, send him away—don't receive him."
Before Madame Baldimer could reply, the maid announced Count Dahlborne, and the Swede instantly made his appearance.
Albert's features contracted. Madame Baldimer welcomed the count with an affable smile; and he, as cold and formal as ever, saluted her with his usual stiffness, imprinted a kiss on her hand, and sat down beside her, precisely as if Albert were not present.
The young man amused himself tearing his gloves, while his reflections took this turn:
"This must come to an end; I didn't give her a shawl that cost five thousand francs for the pleasure of seeing this man."
Madame Baldimer made one or two of the commonplace remarks which people employ to open a conversation.
The Swede replied with his usual brevity. Albert did not say a word.
At last, at a moment when nothing was being said, the count took a velvet case from his pocket, and handed it to Madame Baldimer, saying:
"Here is a trifle—to take the place of the fan; it isn't so breakable."
The widow opened the case, which contained a magnificent opera glass of most beautiful workmanship; she uttered a cry of admiration, and, taking the glass from the case, handed it to Albert, saying: