"And when is it to be, Monseigneur?" I asked.
"In a hurry to see the fine dresses?" demanded my gracious Lord, and laughed again. "Nay, I think not till after Christmas. Time enough then. I am in no hurry to lose my housekeeper. Canst thou keep house, my rabbit?—ha, ha! Will there be anything for dinner? Ha, ha, ha, ha!"
I was half frightened, and yet half delighted. Of course, I thought, if Alix goes away, Umberge will come and reign here. Nobody is likely to think me old enough or good enough.
"Under your Nobility's good leave, I will see to that," said I.
Monseigneur answered by a peal of laughter. "Ha, ha, ha! Showing her talons, is she? Wants to rule, my cabbage—does she? A true woman, on my troth! Ha, ha, ha!"
"If it please you, Monseigneur, why should you come short of dinner because I see about it?"
My gracious Lord laughed more than ever.
"No reason at all, my little rabbit!—no reason at all! Try thy hand, by all means—by all means! So Umberge does not need to come? Ha, ha, ha, ha!"
"Certainly not for me," said I, rather piqued.
"Seriously, my little cat," said he, and his face grew grave. "Wouldst thou rather Umberge did not come? Art thou not friends with her?"