“What is the matter with poor M. Elgin?  He looks funereal.”

“He is unhappy,” was the answer, accompanied by a sigh, which sounded as if it had been uttered in order to increase curiosity, and stimulate people to observe him more closely.  Several persons did observe him; and they soon found out that Sir Thorn no longer took his seat by Henrietta as formerly, and that he avoided every occasion to address her a word.

For all that he was not resigned; far from that.  He only laid siege from a distance now, spending whole evenings in looking at her from afar, absorbed in mute ecstasy.  And at all times, incessantly and everywhere, she met him, as if he had been her shadow, or as if he had been condemned to breathe the air which had been displaced by her petticoats.  One would have thought him endowed with the gift of multiplying himself; for he was inevitably seen wherever she was,—­leaning against the door-frame, or resting his elbow on the mantlepiece, his eyes fixed upon her.  And, when she did not see him, she felt his looks still weighing her down.  M. de Brevan, having been made aware of his importunate attentions, seemed to check his indignation only with great difficulty.  Once or twice he spoke of calling out this wretched fellow (so he called Sir Thorn); and, in order to quiet him, Henrietta had to repeat to him over and over again, that, after such an encounter, he would no longer be able to appear at the palace, and would thus deprive her of the only friend to whom she could look for assistance.

He yielded; but he said after careful consideration,—­

“This abominable persecution cannot go on, madam:  this man compromises you too dreadfully.  You ought to lay your complaint before Count Ville-Handry.”

She decided to do so, not without great reluctance; but the count stopped her at the first word she uttered.

“I think, my daughter, your vanity blinds you.  Before M. Elgin, who is one of the most eminent financiers in all Europe, should think of a little insignificant person like you, he would look a long time elsewhere.”

“Permit me, father”—­

“Stop!  If you should, however, not deceive yourself, it would be the greatest good luck for you, and an honor of which you ought to be very proud indeed.  Do you think it would be easy to find a husband for you, after all the unpleasant talk to which you have given occasion?”

“I do not wish to marry, father.”

“Of course not.  However, as such a marriage would meet all my wishes, as it would serve to tighten the bonds which unite us with this honorable family (if M. Thomas Elgin should really have such intentions as you mention), I should know, I think, how to force you to marry him.  However, I shall speak to him, and see.”

He spoke to him indeed, and soon; for the very next morning the countess and Mrs. Brian purposely went out, so as to leave Henrietta and Sir Thorn alone.  The honorable gentleman looked sadder than usually.  He began thus,—­