"Are they married, then?" asked the duke, drawing back.
"So much married, monseigneur, that the devil himself cannot unmarry them, without the assistance of the pope."
"I will write to Rome!"
"Take care, monseigneur; do not waste your influence; you will want it all, so get me made a cardinal."
"But," exclaimed the regent, "such a marriage is intolerable."
"Mésalliances are in fashion," said Dubois; "there is nothing else talked of—Louis XIV. made a mésalliance in marrying Madame de Maintenon, to whom you pay a pension as his widow—La Grande Mademoiselle made a mésalliance in marrying the Duc de Lauzun—you did so in marrying Mademoiselle de Blois, so much so, indeed, that when you announced the marriage to your mother, the princess palatine, she replied by a blow. Did not I do the same when I married the daughter of a village schoolmaster? After such good examples, why should not your daughter do so in her turn?"
"Silence, demon," said the regent.
"Besides," continued Dubois, "the Duchesse de Berry's passion began to be talked about, and this will quiet the talk; for it will be known all through Paris to-morrow. Decidedly, monseigneur, your family begins to settle down."
The Duc d'Orleans uttered an oath, to which Dubois replied by a laugh, which Mephistopheles might have envied.
"Silence!" cried a Swiss, who did not know who it was that was making a noise, and did not wish the pious exhortation of the chaplain to be lost.