"Has she gone?" came in a whisper from the inner room.
"Yes! yes! I pray you enter, M. le Comte," said M. Durand, obsequiously holding the portière aside. "Madame la Marquise only passed through very quickly; she took notice of nothing, I assure you."
Gaston de Stainville cast a quick searching glance round the room as he entered, and fidgeted nervously with a lace handkerchief in his hand. No doubt his enforced sudden retreat at Lydie's approach had been humiliating to his pride. But he did not want to come on her too abruptly, and was chafing now because he needed a menial's help to further his desires.
"You were a fool, man, to place me in this awkward position," he said with a scowl directed at M. Durand's meek personality, "or else a knave, in which case . . ."
"Ten thousand pardons, M. le Comte," rejoined the little man apologetically. "Madame la Marquise scarcely ever comes this way after le petit lever. She invariably retires to her study, and thither I should have had the honour to conduct you, according to your wish."
"You seem very sure that Madame la Marquise would have granted me a private audience."
"I would have done my best to obtain one for M. Le Comte," said M. Durand with becoming modesty, "and I think I should have succeeded . . . with tact and diplomacy, Monsieur le Comte, we, who are privileged to . . ."
"Yes, yes!" interrupted Gaston impatiently, "but now?"
"Ah! now it will be much more difficult. Madame la Marquise is not in her study, and . . ."
"And you will want more pay," quoth Gaston with a sneer.