me. It is because you have come back to good ideas—that is why I ask you.'
A sense that the situation of the Princess's husband was really pitiful, that at any rate he suffered and was helpless, that he was a gentleman and even a person who would never have done any great harm—a perception of these appealing truths came into Hyacinth's heart, and stirred there a desire to be kind to him, to render him any service that, in reason, he might ask. It appeared to Hyacinth that he must be pretty sick to ask any service at all, but that was his own affair. 'If you would like me to see you safely home, I will do that,' our young man remarked; and even while he spoke he was struck with the oddity of his being already on such friendly terms with a person whom he had hitherto supposed to be the worst enemy of the rarest of women. He found himself unable to consider the Prince with resentment.
This personage acknowledged the civility of his offer with a slight inclination of his high slimness. 'I am very much obliged to you, but I will not go home. I will not go home till I know this—to what house she has gone. Will you tell me that?'
'To what house?' Hyacinth repeated.
'She has gone with a person whom you know. Madame Grandoni told me that. He is a Scotch chemist.'
'A Scotch chemist?' Hyacinth stared.
'I saw them myself—two hours, three hours, ago. Listen, listen; I will be very clear,' said the Prince, laying his forefinger on the other hand with an explanatory gesture. 'He came to that house—this one, where we have been, I mean—and stayed there a long time. I was
