While the princess entered the royal coach, passing the Duke of Choisuel without noticing him, the church bells clanged. Countess Dubarry radiantly got into her coach, up to the door of which came Chevalier Jean.
"Do you know who that young whippersnapper is?" he asked, pointing to a horseman at the dauphiness' coach window. "That is Philip of Taverney, who gave me that sword thrust."
"Well, who is the beautiful girl with whom he is talking?"
"His sister, and to my mind you have the same need to beware of that girl as I of her brother."
"You are mad."
"I have my wits about me. I shall keep an eye on the blade anyhow."
"And I shall watch the budding beauty."
"Hush!" said Jean; "here comes your friend Richelieu."
"What is wrong, my dear duke? You look discontented," said the countess, with her sweetest smile.
"Does it not strike your ladyship that we are all very dull, not to say sad, for such a joyous affair? I can recall going out to meet another princess for the royal couch, amiable like this one, and as fair. It was the dauphin's mother. We were all jolly. Is it because we were younger?"