"Valerie!" exclaimed Caroline, blushing fiery red.

"Caroline!" replied I, quietly.

"What _were_ you going to say?"

"Fancying her to be a very great heiress," I continued; "but finding her to be a far better thing, a delightful, beautiful, and excellent wife."

"Happy man!" said de Chavannes, with a half sigh.

"Why do you say so, Count?"

"To have married one for whom you vouch so strongly. Is that any common fortune?"

"It is rather common, Count, just of late I mean," said Caroline, laughing. "You do not know that among Valerie's other accomplishments she is the greatest little match-maker in existence. She marries off all her friends as fast--oh! you cannot think how fast."

"I _hope_, I mean to say I _think_," he corrected himself, not without some little confusion, "that she is not quite so bad as you make her out. She has not yet made any match for herself, I believe. No, no. I don't believe she is quite so bad."

"I would not be too sure, Count, were I you," she answered, desirous of paying me off a little for some of the badinage with which I had treated her. "These ladies, with so many strings to their bow--"

It was now my time to exclaim "Caroline!" and I did so not without giving some little emphasis of severity to my tone, for I really thought she was going beyond the limits of propriety, if not of _persiflage_; and I will do her the justice to say that she felt it herself, for she blushed very much as I spoke, and was at once silent.

The awkwardness of this pause was fortunately broken by the return of Auguste and Lionel at a sharp canter; for the review was now entirely at an end, and they had now for the first moment remembered that, having promised to return in a quarter of an hour, they had suffered two hours or more to elapse, and that we were probably all alone.

Caroline immediately began to rally Lionel and Auguste; the former, with whom she was very intimate, pretty severely, for their want of gallantry in leaving us all alone and unprotected in such a crowd.

"Not the least danger--not the least!" replied Lionel hastily. "Had we not known that, we should have returned long ago."

"In proof of which _no_ danger, we have been all frightened nearly to death; Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf has been grievously affronted, and I am not sure but she would have been beaten by a French _Chevalier d'Industrie_, had it not been for the gallantry of the Count de Chavannes."

And thereupon out came the whole history of Monsieur G--, his horse-whipping, the opportune appearance of Colonel Jervis, and all the curious circ.u.mstances of the scene.

I never in my life saw anyone so fearfully excited as Auguste. He turned white as ashes, even to his very lips, while his eyes literally flashed fire, and his frame shivered as if he had been in an ague fit.

"_Il me le paiera_!" he muttered between his hard-set teeth. "_Il me le paiera, le scelerat! Ma pauvre soeur--ma pauvre pet.i.te Valerie_!"

And then he shook the hand of Chavannes with the heartiest and warmest emotion. "I shall never forget this," he said, in a thick, low voice; "never, never! From this time forth, de Chavannes, we are friends for ever. But I shall never, never, be able to repay you."

"Nonsense, _mon cher_, nonsense," replied Chavannes. "I did nothing-- positively nothing at all. I should not have been a man, had I done otherwise."

This had, however, no effect at all in stopping Auguste's exclamations and professions of eternal grat.i.tude; nor did he cease until Monsieur de Chavannes said quietly, "Well, well, if you will have it so, say no more about it; and one day or other I will ask a favour of you, which, if granted, will leave me your debtor."

"_If_ granted!--it _is_ granted," exclaimed Auguste, impetuously. "What is it?--name it--I say it _is_ granted."

"Don't be rash, _mon cher_," replied the Count, laughing; "it is no slight boon which I shall ask."

"Do not be foolish, Auguste," I interposed; "you are letting your feelings get the better of you, strangely; and, Caroline, if you do not tell the people to drive home, you will keep the Judge waiting dinner--a proceeding to which you know he is by no means partial."

"You are right, as usual, Valerie; always thoughtful for other people.

So we will go home."

But, just as we were on the point of starting, the groom with the c.o.c.kade, whom we had seen following Colonel Jervis, trotted up, and, touching his hat, asked, "I beg your pardon, gentlemen, but is any one of you the Count de Chavannes?"

"I am," replied the Count; "what do you want with me, sir?"

"From Colonel Jervis, sir," replied the man, handing him a visiting card. "The Colonel's compliments, Count, and he begs you will do him the favour, in case you hear anything more from that fellow, as you horsewhipped, Count, to let him know at Thomas's at once, for you must not treat him as a gentleman, no how, the Colonel says; and if so be he gives you any trouble, the Colonel can get his flint fixed--the Colonel can!"

"Thank you, my man," replied the Count; "give my compliments to your master, and I am much obliged for his interest. I shall do myself the honour of waiting on the Colonel to-morrow. Be so good as to tell him so."

"I will, sir," said the man; and rode away without another word.

"You see, Monsieur de Chatenoeuf, you must not dream of noticing the fellow as a gentleman," said the Count.

"Impossible!" Lionel chimed in, almost in the same breath; and all the ladies followed suit with their absolute "Impossible!"

A rapid drive brought us to the Judge's house at Kew, where we found dinner nearly ready, though not waiting: and the events of the day were the topic, and the Count the hero of the evening.

The next morning, we returned to town--Auguste and myself, I mean; Monsieur de Chavannes having driven up from Kew in his own cabriolet after dinner.

I called, according to my promise, and found Adele alone, and delighted to see me, and in the highest possible spirits. She was the happiest of women, she said; and Colonel Jervis was everything that she could wish-- the kindest, most affectionate of husbands; and all that she now desired, as she declared, was to see me established suitably.

"You had better let matters take their course, Adele," I answered.

"Though not much of a fatalist, I believe that when a person's time is to come, it comes. It avails nothing to hurry--nothing to endeavour to r.e.t.a.r.d it. I shall fare, I doubt not, as my friends before me, dear Adele; and, if I can consult as well for myself as I seem to have done for my friends, I shall do very well. Caroline, by the way, is quite as happy as you declare yourself to be, and I doubt not are; for I like your Colonel amazingly."

"I am delighted to hear it. He also is charmed with you. But who is the Count de Chavannes, of whom he is so full just now? He says he is the only Frenchman he ever saw worthy to be an Englishman--which, though _we_ may not exactly regard it as a compliment, he considers the greatest thing he can say in any one's favour. Who is this Count de Chavannes, Valerie?"

I told her, in reply, all that I knew, and that you know, gentle reader, about the Count de Chavannes.

"_Et puis?--Et puis_?" asked Adele, laughing.

"_Et puis_, nothing at all," I answered.

"No secrets among friends, Valerie," said Adele, looking me earnestly in the face; "I had none with you, and you helped me with your advice. Be as frank, at least, with me, if you love me."

"I do love you dearly, Adele; and I have no secrets. There is nothing concerning which to have a secret."

"Nothing?--not this gay and gallant Count?"

"Not even he."

"And you are not about to become Madame la Comtesse?"

"I am not, indeed."

"Indeed--in very deed?"

"In very--very deed."

"Well, I do not understand it. By what Jervis told me, I presumed it was a settled thing."