"For the one poor time we are going out together," continued the duke, "you might have done us the honour to wear your diamonds. The duchess's diamonds are particularly fine. Did you ever see them, Saint-Remy?"
"Yes, he knows them well enough!" said Clotilde; and then she added, "Your arm, Conrad."
M. de Lucenay followed the duchess with Saint-Remy, who could scarcely repress his anger.
"Aren't you coming with us to the Sennevals, Saint-Remy?" inquired M. de Lucenay.
"No, impossible," he replied, briefly.
"By the way, Saint-Remy, there's Madame de Senneval, too,—what, do I say one? There's two—whom I would willingly sacrifice, for her husband is also on my list."
"What list?"
"That of the people whom I should not have cared to see die, provided D'Harville had been left to us."
At the moment when they were in the anteroom, and M. de Montbrison was helping the duchess on with her mantle, M. de Lucenay, addressing his cousin, said to him:
"Since you are coming with us, Conrad, desire your carriage to follow ours; unless you will decide on coming, Saint-Remy, and then you shall take me, and I will tell you another story quite as good as that of the tailor."