shock was so great that the young girl fainted. She regained
consciousness and almost at once. She saw her mother as mad with anxiety
as she had just seen her trembling with joy and love. She again saw
Lydia Maitland's eyes fixed upon them both with an expression too
significant now. And, as she had had the presence of mind to save that
guilty mother, she found in her tenderness the strength to smile at her,
to lie to her, to blind her forever as to the truth of that hideous scene
which had just been enacted in that lobby.

"I was frightened at the sight of my own blood," said she, "and I believe
it is only a small cut.... See! I can move my hand without pain."

When the doctor, hastily summoned, had confirmed that no particles of
glass had remained in the cuts, the Countess felt so reassured that her
gayety returned. Never had she been in a mood more charming than in the
carriage which took them to the Villa Steno.

To a person obliged by proof to condemn another without ceasing to love
her, there is no greater sorrow than to perceive the absolute
unconsciousness of that other person and her serenity in her fault. Poor
Alba, felt overwhelmed by a sadness greater, more depressing still, and
which became materially insupportable, when, toward half-past two, her
mother bade her farewell, although the fete at the English embassy did
not begin until five o'clock.

"I promised poor Hafner to go to see him to-day. I know he is bowed down
with grief. I would like to try to arrange all.... I will send back the
carriage if you wish to go out awhile. I have telephoned Lydia to expect
me at four o'clock.... She will take me."