"Exactly, cher Monsieur," assented miladi, as she sailed majestically on to another group.
"What did miladi mean exactly?" asked M. Crébillon.
"Oh! she is so kind-hearted, such an angel!" sighed pretty Madame de la Beaume, "she wanted to palliate Madame Lydie's conduct by suggesting that milor merely desired to forbid her future intercourse with M. de Stainville. . . . I have heard that version of the quarrel already, but I must own that it bears but little resemblance to truth. We all know that so simple a request would not have led to a really serious breach between milor and his wife."
"It was more than that, of course, or milor would not have beaten her," came in unanswerable logic from M. Crébillon.
"Hush—sh—sh!" admonished the old Duchess, "here comes His Majesty."
"He looks wonderfully good-humoured," said Madame de la Beaume, "and doth not wear at all his usual Thursday's scowl."
"Then we may all be sure, Mesdames and Messieurs," said the irrepressible Crébillon, "that rumour hath not lied again."
"What rumour?"
"You have not heard?"
"No!" came from half a dozen eager and anxious lips.