Elise drew herself up, and she, too, felt a change in her heart.  With the instinct of love, she felt that this handsome woman who stood opposite to her was her rival, her enemy with whom she had to struggle for her most precious property.  Passion filled her whole being, and she vowed to herself not to yield a single step to this proud beauty.  With an expression of unspeakable disdain, she fixed her eyes upon the countess.  Their flashing looks crossed each other like the bright blades of two combatants in a duel.

“I do not understand you,” said Elise, with angry coldness.  “You must speak more plainly, if you wish to be understood.”

“You do not wish to understand me,” cried the countess.  “You wish to avoid me, but I will not let you.  I have suffered so much that I will not suffer any longer.  We stand here opposite each other as two women engaged in a combat for life and death.”

Elise suppressed the cry of pain which rose in her breast, and compelled herself to assume a proud and impassible composure.  “I still do not understand you, nor do I desire to contend with an unknown person.  But if you will not leave my room, you will allow me to do so.”

She turned to go, but the countess seized her hand, and held her back.  “No! you cannot go!” cried she, passionately.  “You cannot go, for I know that you are going to him, to him whom I love, and I come to demand this man of you.”

These half-threatening, half-commanding words, at last drove Elise from the assumed tranquillity she had maintained with so much difficulty.  “I know not of whom you speak,” cried she, in a loud voice.

But the countess was tired of dealing in these half-concealed meanings, these mysterious allusions.  “You know of whom I speak,” cried she, vehemently.  “You know that I have come to demand the restoration of my holiest possession, the heart of my beloved.  Oh! give him back to me, give me back my betrothed, for he belongs to me, and cannot be another’s.  Let my tears persuade you.  You are young, rich, handsome; you have every thing that makes life happy.  I have nothing but him.  Leave him to me.”

Elise felt furious.  Like a tigress, she could have strangled this woman, who came to destroy her happiness.  A wild, angry laugh rang from her lips:  “You say that you love him,” exclaimed she.  “Well, then, go to him and ask him for his heart.  Why do you demand it of me?  Win it from him, if you can.”

“In order to be able to win it, you must first release him from the fetters with which you have bound him.”

An angry flush overspread Elise’s pale face.  “You become insulting,” she said.

The countess paid no attention to these words, but continued still more vehemently:  “Make him free.  Loose the bands which fetter him, and then, I am sure, he will return to me and be mine again.”

Elise stared terrified at the face of the countess, excited and streaming with tears.  She had heard but one little word, but this word had pierced her heart like a dagger.