"But had I not been told so I had accounted him your rejected suitor, who, broken-hearted, gives no thought either to his own life or to yours." In a pet, Mademoiselle gave her shoulder to the speaker and turned away.

In spite of the words with which she had defended him, Suzanne was disappointed in her betrothed, and yet, in a way, she understood his bearing to be the natural fruit of that indomitable pride of which she had observed the outward signs, and for which, indeed as much as for the beauty of his person, she had consented to become his wife.

After all, it was the outward man she knew.

The marriage had been arranged, and this was but their third meeting, whilst never for an instant had they been alone together.

By her mother she had been educated up to the idea that it was eminently desirable she should become the Vicomtesse d'Ombreval.