"Some one is knocking, madame," said Dariole, thrusting her head through the opening of the portière.
"Go and find out who it is, and come back," said Madame de Sauve. Henry and Charlotte looked at each other anxiously, and Henry was beginning to think of retiring to the oratory, in which he had already more than once taken refuge, when Dariole reappeared.
"Madame," said she, "it is Maître Réné, the perfumer."
At this name Henry frowned, and involuntarily bit his lips.
"Do you want me to refuse him admission?" asked Charlotte.
"No!" said Henry; "Maître Réné never does anything without having previously thought about it. If he comes to you, it is because he has a reason for coming."
"In that case, do you wish to hide?"
"I shall be careful not to," said Henry, "for Maître Réné knows everything; therefore Maître Réné knows that I am here."
"But has not your majesty some reason for thinking his presence painful to you?"
"I!" said Henry, making an effort, which in spite of his will-power he could not wholly dissimulate. "I! none at all! we are rather cool to each other, it is true; but since the night of Saint Bartholomew we have been reconciled."