At a sign from the doctor I followed him out of the room--on the stairs he turned round abruptly, and asked: "Will YOU tell the countess ?" "I would rather be excused," I replied, decisively.

"I am not at all in the humor for a SCENE." "You think she will make a scene ?" he said with an astonished uplifting of his eyebrows.

"I dare say you are right though! She is an excellent actress." By this time we had reached the foot of the stairs.
"She is very beautiful," I answered evasively.
"Oh, very! No doubt of that!" And here a strange frown contracted the doctor's brow.

"For my own taste, I prefer an ugly woman to SUCH beauty." And with these words he left me, disappearing down the passage which led to "madama's" boudoir.

Left alone, I paced up and down the drawing-room, gazing abstractedly on its costly fittings, its many luxurious knickknacks and elegancies--most of which I had given to my wife during the first few months of our marriage.