The House of de Mailly

by Margaret Horton Potter

"And now you, abbé?"

"I differ from M. de Richelieu. I should rather suggest—the lady now standing behind M. d'Epernon."

The party glanced discreetly about to behold a pretty woman in pink brocade, who was laughing at some remark from the Abbé Coyer.

"What! The last débutante? Mme. d'Etioles?"

"Bah! Pardon, de Bernis, but she is of the bourgeoisie."

"And is Mme. de Mailly of higher birth?"

There was a moment of unexpected silence. Then Richelieu said, slowly: "I had understood that she was of excellent blood. Six generations, it has been said."

Penthièvre and d'Epernon nodded agreement. Such, certainly, had been the rumor. De Bernis looked a little nonplussed.

"Then Mme. de Mailly is—your choice?" he asked of Richelieu.

"Oh," the Duke shrugged, "that is a little direct, Monsieur l'Abbé. I much admire Mme. de Mailly. His Majesty admires her."