"Very good, my son; I will ask no questions. I like to be surprised. But aren't we going to breakfast together on this little table by my bed?"
"I haven't time, little father! I must go back to Adamas, who says that he begs you to go to sleep for another hour unless you want to spoil everything."
The marquis did his best to go to sleep again, but to no purpose. He was disturbed about many things. Madame de Beuvre was to come early on that day with her father; Guillaume, too, in case his steward should be better. Had suitable arrangements been made for the dinner? and could Mario properly be presented to a lady in the costume of a mountain shepherd? And, then, the poor child did not even know how to bow, to kiss a lady's hand, or say a word or two of flattery? Would not all his beauty, all his fascinating ways be ridiculed and treated with contempt by those who were not blinded by the voice of blood?
Moreover, no adequate preparations had been made for the hunting party. He had had too much excitement and anxiety to give any thought to that.
"If Adamas, who is never at a loss, were only here, he would console me," thought the marquis.
But so great was his consideration for his faithful servant that he would have pretended to sleep all day, if Adamas had demanded it.
He remained in bed until nine o'clock, but no one came to his relief; and, as hunger and uneasiness began to make a serious impression upon him, he determined to rise.
"What is Adamas thinking about?" he said to himself. "My guests will soon be here. Does he want them to surprise me in my dressing-gown and with this sallow face?"
At last Adamas entered the room.
"Oh! set your mind at rest, monsieur!" he exclaimed. "Do you think me capable of forgetting you? There is no hurry. You will have no company until two o'clock this afternoon; Madame de Beuvre has just sent word to me to that effect."