She had still, she thought, time enough for the tit-bit of her evening; and hurrying to the palace, winged by the fear of Gondremark's arrival, she sent her name and a pressing request for a reception to the Princess Seraphina.

As the Countess von Rosen unqualified, she was sure to be refused; but as an emissary of the Baron's, for so she chose to style herself, she gained immediate entry.
The Princess sat alone at table, making a feint of dining.

Her cheeks were mottled, her eyes heavy; she had neither slept nor eaten; even her dress had been neglected.

In short, she was out of health, out of looks, out of heart, and hag-ridden by her conscience.

The Countess drew a swift comparison, and shone brighter in beauty.
'You come, madam, _de la part de Monsieur le Baron_,' drawled the Princess.