"Miretta!" faltered Léodgard, to whose mind the young lady's-maid's name seemed to recall a painful memory; and a sudden change took place in his expression.
"Yes, seigneur, my name is Miretta," replied the pretty brunette, who had observed the magical effect which her name produced on the count, and wished to know the cause of it. "Does my name remind you of anyone whom you have known?"
"No—no—no one," stammered Léodgard, who, as he strove to recover his self-possession, scrutinized the girl with peculiar attention. "Have you been long in the Marquise de Santoval's service?"
"I entered Mademoiselle de Mongarcin's service on my arrival in Paris, more than three years ago. I had a letter of recommendation for mademoiselle."
"Ah! and you came——"
"I came from Italy; I was reared in the outskirts of Milan."
Léodgard's features contracted still more, but in an instant he rejoined hurriedly:
"This evening at nine o'clock; I will be prompt. Assure your mistress of the zeal with which I shall fly to her."
As he spoke, Léodgard slipped a purse into Miretta's hand, then walked away before she had time to realize his action.
The girl gazed with a feeling of repugnance at the purse the count had put in her hand, and said to herself: