“That is nothing to the piece of our mistress’s dress found in your hand on Louis XV Square, as Master Philip told his father. He does not see far into the matter yet, but I may help him.”
“Take care, Nicole, or they may learn that the stones thrown over the wall are wrapped in love-letters.”
“It is not true!” Then recovering her coolness, she added: “It is no crime to receive a love-letter—not like sneaking in to peep at poor young mistress in her private room.”
“But it is a crime for a waiting-maid to slip keys under garden doors and keep tryst with soldiers in the greenhouse!”
“Gilbert, Gilbert!”
“Such is the Nicole Virtue! Now, assert that I am in love with Mdlle. Andrea and I will say I am in love with my playfellow Nicole and they will believe that the sooner. Then you will be packed off. Instead of going to the Trianon Palace with your mistress, and coqueting with the fine fops around the Dauphiness, you will have to hang around the barracks to see your lover the corporal of the Guards. A low fall, and Nicole’s ambition ought to have carried her higher. Nicole, a dangler on a guardsman!”
And he began to hum a popular song:
“In the French Guards my sweetheart marches!”
“For pity’s sake, Gilbert, do not eye me thus—it alarms me.”
“Open the door and get that swashbuckler out of the way in ten minutes when I may take my leave.”