The Countess leaned back in her chair, and contracted her brow, and pursed up her lips, as though vainly endeavoring to remember the name.
"The Marquis de Croisenois?" repeated she. "It seems as if----no--wait a moment. No; I cannot say that I can call any such person to mind."
The doctor felt that he must give the spur to this rebellious memory.
"Yes, Croisenois," he repeated. "His Christian name was George, and he had a brother Henry, whom you certainly must know, for this winter I saw him at the Duchess de Laumeuse's, dancing with your daughter."
"You are right; I remember the name now."
Her manner was indifferent and careless as she said this.
"Then perhaps you also recollect that some twenty-three years ago, George de Croisenois vanished suddenly. This disappearance caused a terrible commotion at the time, and was one of the chief topics of society."
"Ah! indeed?" mused the Countess.