“And you conclude either that he loves me, or that I love him?”
“Why not?—he is a most agreeable and charming companion.—No one hears me, I hope,” said Lucy Stewart, as she turned round with a smile, which indicated, moreover, that her uneasiness on the subject was not extreme.
“No, no,” said Mary, “the king is engaged in his summer-house with the Duke of Buckingham.”
“Oh! a propos of the duke, Mary, it seems he has shown you great attention since his return from France; how is your own heart in that direction?”
Mary Grafton shrugged her shoulders with seeming indifference.
“Well, well, I will ask Bragelonne about it,” said Stewart, laughing; “let us go and find him at once.”
“What for?”
“I wish to speak to him.”
“Not yet, one word before you do: come, come, you who know so many of the king’s secrets, tell me why M. de Bragelonne is in England?”
“Because he was sent as an envoy from one sovereign to another.”