minutes with the loud blast of the trumpets, the stamping of horses, and
the yelping of the pack. Then the tumultuous crowd disappeared down the
avenue, the noise gradually died away, and I remained master of myself and
of my mind, in the midst of a silence the more grateful that it is the
more rare on this meridian.

I had been enjoying my solitude for a few minutes, and I was turning over
the folio pages of the _Neustra pia_, while smiling at my own happiness,
when I fancied I heard the gallop of a horse in the avenue, and soon after
on the pavement of the court. Some hunter behind time, I thought, and,
taking up my pen, I began extracting from the enormous volume the passage
relating to the General Chapters of the Benedictines; but a new and more
serious interruption came to afflict me; some one was knocking at the
library-door. I shook my head with ill-humor, and I said "Come in!" in the
same tone in which I might have said "Go away!" Some one did come in. I
had seen, a few moments before, Madame de Palme taking her flight,
feathers and all, at the head of the cavalcade, and I was not a little
surprised to find her again within two steps of me as soon as the door was
open. Her head was bare, and her hair was tucked up behind in an odd
manner; she held her whip in one hand, and with the other lifted up the
long train of her riding-habit. The excitement of the rapid ride she had
just had seemed further to intensify the expression of audacity which is
habitual to her look and to her features. And yet her voice was less
assured than usual when she exclaimed as she came in:

"Ah! I beg your pardon! I thought Madame de Malouet was here?"

I had risen at once to my full height.

"No, madam, she is not here."