"What imprudence!" cries Madame de Chevreuse, lifting up her hands. "How could you dare to say this?"
"It is quite true, however," rejoins Madame de Noailles, "and it was the part of a true friend to tell her."
"Would to God I had been silent!" continues Mademoiselle de Hautefort; "no sooner were the words out of my mouth than the Queen sternly ordered me to extinguish the lights and to withdraw. I rose from my knees more dead than alive and departed. When I awoke this morning I received an order commanding me not to approach within forty miles of the Court. Oh, it is dreadful!"
"Come with me into Touraine, my carriage waits below. We will stop at your lodgings in order to give your people time to pack. Come, dear friend, we have lived side by side among the splendours of the court, we have suffered persecution for the same mistress, we love her devotedly, spite of all injuries. Let us now comfort each other in exile."
Mademoiselle de Hautefort casts herself into the arms of the Duchess.
"You will not keep her long," observes Madame de Noailles, with a smile, "we shall soon see her back at Court, as Madame la Marèchale de Schomberg, more blooming than ever."
"No, no," sobs Mademoiselle de Hautefort. "Never!"
"Adieu, Madame," says the Duchesse de Chevreuse, saluting Madame de Noailles, and taking Mademoiselle de Hautefort by the hand. "Excuse our abrupt departure, but the sooner we quit Paris the better. My friend and I would desire in all things to obey her Majesty's pleasure. Let us hope to meet in happier days. Ma chère," adds she more gaily, addressing the maid of honour, "we shall not die of ennui at my château."