Three weeks passed. The count was beginning to sit up and to walk about his room; but he was still very weak, and the blood that he had lost seemed to have carried away all that he had still retained of youthfulness, activity, and amiability. Fanny had been to see him almost every day, although she was sadly bored all the time that she was with the wounded man; she was very careful, however, to conceal her ennui and to dissemble her yawns; on the contrary, she feigned to be more affectionate than ever; but his convalescence seemed to her interminable, especially because she did not fail to notice the change that had taken place in the humor of her future spouse, who seemed to have aged ten years in a fortnight.

Soon the count was able to drive out; whereupon Fanny murmured, lowering her eyes:

"I think that we might now fix the day which is to unite us forever."

But Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre shook his head.

"I am not strong enough yet," he replied.

And the young widow said to herself:

"I am very much afraid that he never will be strong enough again!"

Things were at this point, when Madame MonlÉard's maid informed her mistress one morning that Monsieur Cherami requested the honor of an interview with her.

"Monsieur Cherami!" cried Fanny. "What! that man dares show himself at my house! my evil genius! But, no matter! I am curious to know what he can have to say to me.—Show the gentleman in."

Cherami, who had not omitted to make an elaborate toilet, came forward with a smiling face, saying:

"Madame MonlÉard did not expect a call from me?"

"No, monsieur, most assuredly not. After what has taken place between you and Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre, I did not expect to see you here; but, since you are here, I trust that you will be good enough to tell me why you challenged a man you did not know, and who had not injured you?"

"Mon Dieu! madame, surely you can guess. I wished to avenge poor Gustave, whom you have played with like a macaroon."

"Great heaven! monsieur, what is the meaning of this frenzy of yours for taking up the cudgels for Gustave? He doesn't think of fighting duels himself, you see! he takes things as they come; he's a good boy, and doesn't lose his head; he goes away, and that's the end of it. But you! And your conduct is all the more blamable because, when I met you not long ago, you made me all sorts of offers of your services. You assured me that you would be overjoyed if you could be agreeable to me in any way; and, in order to be agreeable to me, you go to work and challenge Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre, for no reason at all; you compel him to fight; and you run your sword into him just when he was going to marry me! If that's the kind of service you meant to offer me, I excuse you from obliging me hereafter."

"I begin by confessing, madame, that I realize my mistake. I followed the first impulse; but I was wrong. I have realized since that I made an awful blunder; and I have come humbly to beg your pardon."

"You confess your wrong-doing; that is well enough! but what is done is done, none the less."

"The count has recovered; he goes out to drive; I am sure of that."

"Yes, the count is beginning to go out; but he is not the same man; his humor has completely changed; he has lost his light, playful tone. He was a young man, now he's old. When I mention our marriage, he replies: 'My strength doesn't seem to come back.'—In short, he no longer acts as if he were in love with me; and you, monsieur, you are the cause of it."

"Very well, madame; as I have done the mischief, I propose to remedy it. The count shall become amorous again, and of a cheerful humor, and eager to marry you; for I want him to marry you now, and, par la sambleu! I will succeed! I have my cue!"

"You have a cue?"

"That's just a little phrase I'm in the habit of using; I mean that I have my scheme."

"Are you telling me the truth, monsieur? Do you really desire now to see me marry Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre?"

"Madame, women have often deceived me; but I have always been honest with them—in order not to resemble them. I have no reason for lying to you."

"And how do you propose to set about making the count what he was?"

"Rely on me! But it is necessary that Monsieur de la BÉriniÈre should consent to receive me. If I call on him, it's not certain that he will see me. You must have the kindness to say a few words to him in my favor—that I realize my mistake and would be glad to apologize to him; that I have asked you to intercede for me."

"If that is all that is necessary, all right. I shall go to see the count soon; come to-morrow morning, and I will tell you what he says. Suppose it is favorable?"

"A week hence, it will all be over, and you will be a countess."

"Really? but what method do you propose to employ?"

"Don't you be disturbed; I have my cue, I tell you."