"Fear nothing. I am a noblewoman, and as you have my word, I will keep it to-morrow though I die for it."
So they parted, the old countess, lying down, going over her documents, and the young one lighter than she arrived, but with her heart aching at not having baffled the old litigant who easily defeated the king of France. In the main room, she perceived her brother, draining a second bottle of wine in order not to rouse suspicions on his reasons for staying in the inn. He jumped up and ran to her.
"How goes it?" he asked.
"As Marshal Saxe said to the king on showing him the field of Fontenoy: 'Sire, learn by this sight how dear and agonizing a victory
is.'"
"But you have a patroness?"
"Yes, but she costs us a million! It is cruel; but I could not help myself. Mind how you handle her, or she may back out, or charge double her present price."
"What a woman! A Roman!"
"A Spartan. But bring her to Luciennes at three, for I shall not be easy till I have her under lock and key."