“He is neither here for good nor harm, madame; he comes to see me, that is all.”
“It is all very well! all very well!” said the old lady. “Her royal highness shall be informed of it, and she will judge.”
“At all events, I do not see why,” replied Montalais, “it should be forbidden M. Malicorne to have intentions towards me, if his intentions are honorable.”
“Honorable intentions with such a face!” cried Madame de Saint-Remy.
“I thank you in the name of my face, madame,” said Malicorne.
“Come, my daughter, come,” continued Madame de Saint-Remy; “we will go and inform madame that at the very moment she is weeping for her husband, at the moment when we are all weeping for a master in this old castle of Blois, the abode of grief, there are people who amuse themselves with flirtations!”
“Oh!” cried both the accused, with one voice.
“A maid of honor! a maid of honor!” cried the old lady, lifting her hands towards heaven.
“Well! it is there you are mistaken, madame,” said Montalais, highly exasperated; “I am no longer a maid of honor, of madame’s at least.”
“Have you given in your resignation, mademoiselle? That is well! I cannot but applaud such a determination, and I do applaud it.”