He was told that Madame de Cintre was at home; he crossed the court, entered the farther door, and was conducted through a vestibule, vast, dim, and cold, up a broad stone staircase with an ancient iron balustrade, to an apartment on the second floor.

Announced and ushered in, he found himself in a sort of paneled boudoir, at one end of which a lady and gentleman were seated before the fire.

The gentleman was smoking a cigarette; there was no light in the room save that of a couple of candles and the glow from the hearth.

Both persons rose to welcome Newman, who, in the firelight, recognized Madame de Cintre.

She gave him her hand with a smile which seemed in itself an illumination, and, pointing to her companion, said softly, "My brother." The gentleman offered Newman a frank, friendly greeting, and our hero then perceived him to be the young man who had spoken to him in the court of the hotel on his former visit and who had struck him as a good fellow.
"Mrs.Tristram has spoken to me a great deal of you," said Madame de Cintre gently, as she resumed her former place.
Newman, after he had seated himself, began to consider what, in truth, was his errand.