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Updated: September 6, 2025
Notwithstanding which, my dear young lady, I am your humble servant;" and he made her a low bow. "Count, I beg to salute you most respectfully," he added, bowing still more humbly to M. de Montbron; and he went out.
"I have a heavy heart, and you are the cause of it, my dear child." "M. de Montbron, you will make me very proud," said Adrienne, with a smile. "You would be wrong, for I tell you plainly, my trouble is caused by your neglect of your beauty. Yes, your countenance is pale, dejected, sorrowful; you have been low-spirited for the last few days; you have something on your mind, I am sure of it."
"M. de Montbron is no doubt returned to Paris, and has been informed in time. He accompanies the magistrate, and comes to deliver me. I pity you, sir both you and yours," added Adrienne, with an accent of bitter irony. "Madame," cried M. Baleinier, no longer able to dissemble his growing alarm, "I repeat to you, take care! Remember what I have told you.
They were to be joined in the course of the evening by M. de Montbron, whom they had dropped, in passing, at his club. The large theatre of the Porte-Saint-Martin was crowded by an impatient multitude. All Paris had hurried with eager and burning curiosity to Morok's exhibition.
"I have a heavy heart, and you are the cause of it, my dear child." "M. de Montbron, you will make me very proud," said Adrienne, with a smile. "You would be wrong, for I tell you plainly, my trouble is caused by your neglect of your beauty. Yes, your countenance is pale, dejected, sorrowful; you have been low-spirited for the last few days; you have something on your mind, I am sure of it."
The latter, much astonished, began to read, after again looking at Adrienne, who said to him, in her most coaxing voice, "Very slowly, I beg of you." M. de Montbron then read the following passage from the journal of a traveller in India: "'When I was at Bombay, in 1829, I constantly heard amongst the English there, of a young hero, the son of "
Baleinier; but, a few days sooner or later, I must infallibly have been released by M. de Montbron." "You are right, my dear child," said the count; "it may be that your enemies wished to claim the merit of what must necessarily have happened through the exertions of your friends."
The latter, having completely forgotten the presence of the accusing volumes by which she was surrounded, yielded to a movement of involuntary confusion, and blushed slightly; but, her firm and resolute character again coming to her aid, she looked full at M. de Montbron, and said to him: "Well, my dear count! what surprises you?"
Instead of answering the count, Adrienne took from the stand one of the freshly-cut volumes, and, bringing it to M. de Montbron, said to him, with a smile and a celestial expression of joy and happiness: "I was wrong I am vain. Just read this aloud, if you please. I tell you that I can wait for to-morrow."
After looking at the young lady for some seconds, M. de Montbron shook his head, and said, with a sigh of regret: "My dear child, I am not pleased." "Some affair of the heart, or of hearts, my dear count?" returned Adrienne, smiling. "Of the heart," said M. de Montbron. "What! you, so great a player, think more of a woman's whim than a throw of the dice?"
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