But the Marchioness did not always confine the punishment of offences to the tongue; and she pushed the girl rudely by the shoulder, exclaiming, "Call him in, I say!"
The maid ran to the door, and shouted, "Philip, Philip! my lady says, come in."
The boy instantly approached with the book in his hand, saying, "Here, Madam, are the Hours. I suppose they are the right ones, for the old woman would get them herself. I should have been back a long while ago, but she kept me waiting in the hall, and--"
Snatching the book from him as he came near, the Marchioness exclaimed, "Hold your tongue, little miscreant. How dare you go for anything without my orders?"
"Why, Madam, you sent me orders to go," replied the page; "at least, father Walter told me so."
"He is a liar, and you are another, I believe," cried the Marchioness, struggling with the clasps, which for a moment or two resisted all her efforts.
"Ah, Mathurine could not open it either," observed the page in a natural tone.
"Did she try?" demanded his mistress turning upon him vehemently.
"Yes, that she did," was his reply, "for at least five minutes; but she could not get it open."
"Perhaps you can do it," said Madame de Chazeul holding out the book to him, and fixing her eye upon his face.