Reine des Anbiez wore a dress of heavy brown Tours silk, with a train, and tight waist and sleeves; her cheeks were flushed, and her features expressed not surprise only but fright.
She seized her waiting-woman by the hand, and conducted her to the table, and said to her:
“Look!”
The object to which she called the attention of Stephanette was a little vase of rock crystal.
From its long and slender neck issued an orange-coloured lily, with an azure blue calyx, in which stood pistils of silvery whiteness. This brilliant flower exhaled a delicious odour which resembled the mingled perfume of vanilla, lemon, and jessamine.
“Oh, mademoiselle, what a beautiful flower! Is it a present from the Chevalier de Berrol?”
At the mention of her betrothed’s name, Reine turned pale and red by turns; then, without replying to Stephanette, she took up the vase with a sort of fear, and showed her a beautifully enamelled figure which she had discovered there, and the representation of a white dove with a rose-coloured beak, and extended wings, holding in its purplish bronze feet a branch of olive.
“Our Lady!” screamed Stephanette in fright. “It is the very picture of the enamelled pin that young miscreant robbed you of in the rocks of Ollioules, after he had saved monseigneur’s life.”
“But who brought this vase and flower here?” asked Reine.
“You do not know, mademoiselle?”