“You see!” said Jeanne.
“With M. de Monsoreau! Why did you pronounce that name? why do you evoke that phantom in the midst of our woods, our flowers, our happiness?”
“You told me, I think,” said Jeanne, “that M. de Bussy showed much interest in you.”
Diana reddened, even to her round pretty ears.
“He is a charming creature,” continued Jeanne, kissing Diana.
“It is folly,” said Diana; “M. de Bussy thinks no more of Diana de Méridor.”
“That is possible; but I believe he pleases Diana de Monsoreau a little.”
“Do not say that.”
“Does it displease you?”
“I tell you he thinks no more of me; and he does well—oh, I was cowardly.”