“Yes, madame, as maid of honor.”
The old lady’s head sank down as if the blow had been too severe for her. But, almost immediately recovering herself, she launched a last projectile at her adversary.
“Oh! oh!” said she, “I have heard of many of these sorts of promises beforehand, which often lead people to flatter themselves with wild hopes, and at the last moment, when the time comes to keep the promises, and have the hopes realized, they are surprised to see the great credit upon which they reckoned vanish like smoke.”
“Oh! madame, the credit of my protector is incontestable and his promises are as good as deeds.”
“And would it be indiscreet to ask you the name of this powerful protector?”
“Oh! mon Dieu! no! it is that gentleman there,” said Montalais, pointing to Malicorne, who, during this scene, had preserved the most imperturbable coolness, and the most comic dignity.
“Monsieur!” cried Madame de Saint-Remy, with an explosion of hilarity, “monsieur is your protector! Is the man whose credit is so powerful, and whose promises are as good as deeds, Monsieur Malicorne?”
Malicorne bowed.
As to Montalais, as her sole reply, she drew the brevet from her pocket, and showed it to the old lady.
“Here is the brevet,” said she.