“Not—oh, no, not Monsieur Denys!”
“He is not old enough,” she replied, with a touch of vexation. “No. And now that relative is dead. Monsieur, tell me about my little brothers.”
“I never saw them, but know there are two. They are away somewhere being educated. Madame the Countess is at court, one of the handsome women that swell the Queen’s train.”
A sort of protest sped through Renée’s pulses. Her mother was lying in an unheeded grave. She remembered being taken to it several times. And the Count had forgotten about her; another stood in her place. They two were gay and happy.
“You would like to go back to France?” tentatively.
“No, monsieur,” and she raised her pretty head proudly. “I would not leave Uncle Denys for all France has to offer,” in a clear, decisive tone.
“You rate him very highly. I almost envy him, ma’m’selle,” bowing very low. “There is another dance——”
Uncle Denys brought up Monsieur Rivé, who had been merely presented to her in the early part of the evening, and he begged for the pleasure of dancing with her.
“I thought you were engaged,” said Laflamme in a quick tone to Renée.
“I did not say so, monsieur,” she replied in a low tone. “But it is not considered best to dance right along with one person. I do not quite know the fashion of courts,” raising demure, but fascinating eyes.