Mlle H. Madame, your generous nature and partiality for the steward, has somewhat blinded your judgment; those who love you have been more watchful. This Monsieur Manuel is—
Enter Manuel—His dress disordered—His face pale, with slight marks of blood upon his forehead.
Man. Here, Madame, you did me the honor to send for me.
Mlle H. You have just returned, sir?
Man. This moment—I met Alain on the stair.
Mad. L. But you are hurt, Monsieur—there's blood upon your forehead.
Man. Nothing of importance, I assure you; the horse fell with me, and got a few scratches—nothing more—a little cold water will set all to right.
Mad. L. This seems to be a night of misfortunes.
Mad. A. [Sighs.] Ah!
Mad. L. Do be quiet.