"Yes, M. le Comte, her royal highness has been asking for you: she expects to hear, she told us, the result of a commission you had to execute for her. Are you at liberty?"
"I am quite at her royal highness's orders."
"Will you have the goodness to follow us, then?"
When De Guiche ascended to the princess's apartments, he found her pale and agitated. Montalais was standing at the door, apparently in some degree uneasy about what was passing in her mistress's mind. De Guiche appeared.
"Ah! is that you, Monsieur de Guiche?" said Madame; "come in, I beg. Mademoiselle de Montalais, I do not require your attendance any longer."
Montalais, more puzzled than ever, curtseyed and withdrew, and De Guiche and the princess were left alone. The comte had every advantage in his favor; it was Madame who had summoned him to a rendezvous. But how was it possible for the comte to make use of this advantage? Madame was so whimsical, and her disposition was so changeable. She soon allowed this to be perceived, for, suddenly opening the conversation, she said, "Well! have you nothing to say to me?"
He imagined she must have guessed his thoughts; he fancied (for those who are in love are so constituted, they are as credulous and blind as poets or prophets), he fancied she knew how ardent was his desire to see her, and also the subject of it.
"Yes, madame," he said, "and I think it very singular."
"The affair of the bracelets," she exclaimed eagerly; "you mean that, I suppose?"
"Yes, madame."