"'Twould seem, then, 'tis by no fault of his," replied Lady Catharine, hotly.
"And is that not well? There are many in Paris who would fain change places with you, Lady Catharine."
"Would heaven they might!" exclaimed she. "Would that my various friends, or the prefect of police, or heaven knows who that may have spread the news of my acquaintance with your brother, would take me out of that acquaintance!"
"They might hold his friendship a high honor," said Will.
"Oh, an honor! Excellent well comes this distinguished honor. Sirrah, carriages block my street, filled with those who beseech my introduction to John Law. I am waylaid if I step abroad, by women—persons of quality, ladies of the realm, God knoweth what—and they beg of me the favor of an introduction to John Law! There seems spread, I know not how, a silly rumor of the child Kate. And though I did scarce more than name a convent for her attendance, there are now out all manner of reports of Monsieur John Law's child, and—what do I say—'tis monstrous! I protest that I have come closer than I care into the public thoughts with this prodigy, this John Law, whose favor is sought by every one. Honor!—'tis not less than outrage!"
"'Tis but argument that my brother is a person not without note."
"But granted. 'We have seen his carriage at your curb,' they say. I insist that it is a mistake. 'But we saw him come from your door at such and such an hour.' If he came, 'twas but for meeting such answer as I have always given him. Will they never believe—will your brother himself never believe that, though did he have, as he himself says, all France in the hollow of his hand, he could be nothing to me? Now I will make an end to this. I will leave Paris."
"Madam, you might not be allowed to go."
"What! I not allowed to go! And what would hinder a Knollys of Banbury from going when the hour shall arrive?"
"The regent."