Flower o' the lily: A romance of old Cambray

by Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy

'To throw dust in my eyes?'

'Yes.'

'To accompany him as far as Noyon?'

'Yes.'

'Then to return hither under cover of darkness?'

'Yes.'

'And to greet me on the morrow with the fait accompli?'

'Yes.'

'Holy Virgin!' she exclaimed. 'That men should be so base!'

Tears of mortification, of humiliation, of wild, passionate anger, had risen to her eyes. Heavy sobs choked the words in her throat. For once in her life Marguerite of Navarre felt weak and undone and was not ashamed of her weakness. She had piloted the chariot of her brother's destiny with such marvellous success up to the dizzy heights of her own restless ambition only to see it fall crashing to the ground through his own treachery.