There was a low rap on the door. It opened and a servant came in. He walked noiselessly about the room, a taper in his hand, and a moment later lights flickered and then shone bravely from the many candles in bronze sockets on the tapestried walls. The servant made a bright bit of color himself as he moved about in his trousers of crimson velvet.
“Madame la Comtesse wishes the young ladies, Mademoiselle Hortense and Mademoiselle Denise, to accompany her in an hour’s time to the house of Madame la Comtesse de Soigné,” he announced.
Denise gave a little laugh of pleasure and danced the whole length of the room and back again. Then she caught Flambeau’s forepaws and tried to make him dance too, but the dog had such a bored expression that Denise only laughed again and dropped his paws.
“It is only Marie Josephine that you love, is it not, Flambeau?” she exclaimed, and then went on eagerly: “We shall enjoy talking about the ball with the dear De Soigné. Proté, I wish to wear my white cloak in spite of the storm.”
“I am tired of the very name of this ball!” Lisle walked over to the door as he spoke, but turned as Denise answered him.
“We are happy about it because we have had no fun in such a long time, now that everything is so different. Maman will not allow us to go out except in our own garden and to the De Soigné. It is only because they live in the next square that we may go there at all,” she said.
“Maman is foolish!” Lisle exclaimed, and the governess admonished him.
“Monsieur Lisle!”
“It is true, Madame le Pont. There is no real danger, not here in Paris. It is 1792, not the dark ages. Help will come from the royalists in Europe. It is only a question of being patient. It is not really a revolution, you know!”
Marie Josephine watched her brother with admiration as he spoke. How tall and brave and confident he was!