“You pity him?”
“Jealous!” said Diana, with an adorable smile.
Bussy let her go.
In a minute she was by the litter, and found the count half fainting.
“Ah!” cried he, “where were you, madame?”
“Where should I have been? Behind you.”
“At my side, madame; do not leave me again.”
From time to time this scene was renewed. They all hoped he would die with rage; but he did not die: on the contrary, at the end of ten days, when they arrived at Paris, he was decidedly better. During these ten days Diana had conquered all Bussy’s pride, and had persuaded him to come and visit Monsoreau, who always showed him much friendship. Rémy watched the husband and gave notes to the wife.
“Esculapius and Mercury,” said he; “my functions accumulate.”