It was quite time to act; Madame de Saint-Remy was coming up at a quicker pace than usual. She gained the landing at the moment when Montalais, as in all scenes of surprises, shut the closet by leaning with her back against the door.
“Ah!” cried Madame de Saint-Remy, “you are here, are you, Louise?”
“Yes, madame,” replied she, more pale than if she had committed a great crime.
“Well, well!”
“Pray be seated, madame,” said Montalais, offering her a chair, which she placed so that the back was towards the closet.
“Thank you, Mademoiselle Aure—thank you. Come, my child, be quick.”
“Where do you wish me to go, madame?”
“Why, home, to be sure; have you not to prepare your toilette?”
“What did you say?” cried Montalais, hastening to affect surprise, so fearful was she that Louise would in some way commit herself.
“You don’t know the news, then?” said Madame de Saint-Remy.