"M'sieur speaks the tongue of England. I am an English girl. My name is Dorothy Duncan. I am at the school of la Princesse de Fleury. La petite Comtesse no longer goes to that school."
The old Comte managed to hold himself very erect. He fixed his eyes on the pale blue eyes of the English girl.
"Will you have a peach?" he said.
"No, I want not your peaches, M. le Comte. But, listen, behold, I want to tell the very truth. La petite was practically expelled from our school. We would have nothing to do with her. Think, M. le Comte, would it be likely? She attends in a shop."
"In a—in a——" began the old Comte.
"In the shop of the present Comtesse. It is now known as the établissement of Madame Marcelle and la petite Comtesse goes there every day of her life to sell ugly, common things to the wives of farmers. The shop belongs to La Comtesse and she dreads that you should know. Ah, but what a buzzing," continued Dorothy at the end of her sentence. There were innumerable voices; there was the angry tone of Hébé confirming her sister's words; there was Madame Derode in tears, for she could not hear to afflict the aged; and there was the Comtesse, white as a sheet, bending over "mon adorable Alphonse," who had sunk slowly but surely to the ground in a state of complete unconsciousness.
Dorothy stood at his back, a little frightened at her own words, and then she uttered a scream and a shriek, for the celebrated bees of M. le Comte St. Juste were surrounding her. They were getting into her hair, they were stinging her neck, her arms, even her lips and her eyes. She could not get away from them. The old man heard nothing—nothing at all, and Dorothy rushed out of the garden extremely sorry for her mean little revenge.
She was immediately followed by Lady Hébé and Madame Derode. No one had been stung but Dorothy and she could do nothing but cry out at her pain. Madame Derode called her a child of the most méchantes—of revenge the most puerile. She said the bees had but done their duty and when she dropped Dorothy at her school, she said that someone who could remove the stings had better be sent for, but that hélas, for the rest, she pitied not at all la pauvre chatte!
After some difficulty, the unconscious Comte was brought into the house. He was feeling particularly weak and the abrupt sayings of Dorothy caused his heart to stop and then to bound again and then there came a dizziness and a darkness over him and he knew no more.
But when he came to himself on his couch of down and the doctor was bending over him and Ninon was weeping tears on his face, he dimly recalled what had passed. The doctor administered a restorative and then went to another room with Madame la Comtesse.