She raised her graceful head, fixed upon the Count her soft, bright gaze, smiled vaguely, and by a slight movement of the hand intimated to him, “You surprise me; but I will listen to you.”

“This is my first secret, Madame—­I desire to become deputy for this district.”

At this unexpected declaration, Madame de Tecle looked at him, breathed a slight sigh of relief, and gravely awaited what he had to say.

“The General de Campvallon, Madame,” continued the young man, “has manifested a father’s kindness to me.  He intends to resign in my favor, and has not concealed from me that the support of your uncle is indispensable to my success as a candidate.  I have therefore come here, by the General’s advice, in the hope of obtaining this support, but the ideas and opinions expressed yesterday by your uncle appear to me so directly opposed to my pretensions that I feel truly discouraged.  To be brief, Madame, in my perplexity I conceived the idea—­indiscreet doubtless—­to appeal to your kindness, and ask your advice—­which I am determined to follow, whatever it may be.”

“But, Monsieur! you embarrass me greatly,” said the young woman, whose pretty face, at first clouded, brightened up immediately with a frank smile.

“I have no special claims on your kindness—­on the contrary perhaps—­but I am a human being, and you are charitable.  Well, in truth, Madame, this matter seriously concerns my fortune, my future, and my whole destiny.  This opportunity which now presents itself for me to enter public life so young is exceptional.  I should regret very much to lose it; would you therefore be so kind as to aid me?”

“But how can I?” replied Madame de Tecle.  “I never interfere in politics, and that is precisely what you ask me.”

“Nevertheless, Madame, I pray you not to oppose me.”

“Why should I oppose you?”

“Ah, Madame!  You have a right more than any other person to be severe.  My youth was a little dissipated.  My reputation, in some respects, is not over-good, I know, and I doubt not you may have heard so, and I can not help fearing it has inspired you with some dislike to me.”

“Monsieur, we lived a retired life here.  We know nothing of what passes in Paris.  If we did, this would not prevent my assisting you, if I knew how, for I think that serious and elevated labors could not fail happily to change your ordinary habits.”

“It is truly a delicious thing,” thought the young Count, “to mystify so spiritual a person.”

“Madame,” he continued, with his quiet grace, “I join in your hopes, and as you deign to encourage my ambition, I believe I shall succeed in obtaining your uncle’s support.  You know him well.  What shall I do to conciliate him?  What course shall I adopt?—­because I can not do without his assistance.  Were I to renounce that, I should be compelled to renounce my projects.”

“It is truly difficult,” said Madame de Tecle, with a reflective air—­“very difficult!”