'A provincial!'
'Why this surprise, M. le Marquis?'
'Her air is queenly. I never saw hands more divinely formed. Her birth must be above her station.'
'Poor Nicola! she would be quite overwhelmed if she heard you; it would turn the poor girl's head. But, Marquis, what of all this?'
'Merely that she is even worthy to be your attendant,' replied the politic captain of cuirassiers, as he kissed the hand of Clara.
'You are very inquisitive, Marquis,' said she, giving him a pat on the mouth with her feather fan; 'I can assure you that she is only a poor girl consigned to my care—the daughter of a brave soldier who fought at the battle of Prague.'
'When our present enemy, the Duke of Lorraine, commanded the Imperialists.'
'Lorraine?' murmured the Countess, with some confusion. 'Yes—he did command there.'
'And the cowardly Elector Guelph was defeated,' added the Marquis, with a smile.
Madame d'Amboise gave him a furtive and uneasy glance, and then turned away. He gazed at her broadly in turn, with a smile which said plainly.