“My dear Antoinette, you were at home all the time, were you not?” said the Princess, holding out a hand, which the Duchess kissed with affectionate respect.
“Yes, dear mother; I was at home all the time. And,” she added, as she turned to greet the Vidame and the Marquis, “I wished that all Paris should think that I was with M. de Montriveau.”
The Duke flung up his hands, struck them together in despair, and folded his arms.
“Then, cannot you see what will come of this mad freak?” he asked at last.
But the aged Princess had suddenly risen, and stood looking steadily at the Duchess, the younger woman flushed, and her eyes fell. Mme de Chauvry gently drew her closer, and said, “My little angel, let me kiss you!”
She kissed her niece very affectionately on the forehead, and continued smiling, while she held her hand in a tight clasp.
“We are not under the Valois now, dear child. You have compromised your husband and your position. Still, we will arrange to make everything right.”
“But, dear aunt, I do not wish to make it right at all. It is my wish that all Paris should say that I was with M. de Montriveau this morning. If you destroy that belief, however ill grounded it may be, you will do me a singular disservice.”
“Do you really wish to ruin yourself, child, and to grieve your family?”
“My family, father, unintentionally condemned me to irreparable misfortune when they sacrificed me to family considerations. You may, perhaps, blame me for seeking alleviations, but you will certainly feel for me.”