entered to whom Franz had been introduced in Paris, where indeed, he had imagined she still was. The quick eye of Albert caught the involuntary start with which his friend beheld the new arrival, and, turning to him, he said hastily:
“Do you know the woman who has just entered that box?”
“Yes; what do you think of her?”
“Oh, she is perfectly lovely—what a complexion! And such magnificent hair! Is she French?”
“No; a Venetian.”
“And her name is—”
“Countess G⸺.”
“Ah, I know her by name!” exclaimed Albert; “she is said to possess as much wit and cleverness as beauty. I was to have been presented to her when I met her at Madame Villefort’s ball.”
“Shall I assist you in repairing your negligence?” asked Franz.
“My dear fellow, are you really on such good terms with her as to