the horses, and beginning at once to bargain and exchange.

They did not meet again till dinner; in the meantime they had changed
their dress. And here, too, the newly arrived pair showed to all
advantage. Everything they wore was new, and in a style which their
friends at the castle had never seen, and yet, being accustomed to it
themselves, it appeared perfectly natural and graceful.

The conversation was brilliant and well sustained, as, indeed, in the
company of such persons everything and nothing appears to interest. They
spoke in French that the attendants might not understand what they said,
and swept in happiest humor over all that was passing in the great or
the middle world. On one particular subject they remained, however,
longer than was desirable. It was occasioned by Charlotte asking after
one of her early friends, of whom she had to learn, with some distress,
that she was on the point of being separated from her husband.

"It is a melancholy thing," Charlotte said, "when we fancy our absent
friends are finally settled, when we believe persons very dear to us to
be provided for for life, suddenly to hear that their fortunes are cast
loose once more; that they have to strike into a fresh path of life, and
very likely a most insecure one."

"Indeed, my dear friend," the Count answered, "it is our own fault if we
allow ourselves to be surprised at such things. We please ourselves with
imagining matters of this earth, and particularly matrimonial
connections, as very enduring; and as concerns this last point, the
plays which we see over and over again help to mislead us; being, as
they are, so untrue to the course of the world. In a comedy we see a
marriage as the last aim of a desire which is hindered and crossed