"Confessed it? Not in words. There was but her eye, her animation, her color, the quivering of the nostril—an air hard to describe, easy to read, which you all know, messieurs."
"But yes!"
"And she has the tact to compliment a rival. That is excellent."
"True. But Mme. de Mailly is a far newer type. She is young, ingenue, naïve; would not understand even that compliments were required. And novelty, gentlemen, novelty, is what we all, not less than his Majesty, require."
"That is true. I feel it necessary at this moment. Supper must surely have been announced by this time. I go to seek 'la Poule',"* observed de Gêvres, rising.
* Louis XV.'s nickname for Mme. de Flavacourt.
"Is Mme. de Flavacourt here?" whispered d'Epernon of Penthièvre as, the conference over, the little group broke up.
"Yes. She has just passed into the other room with d'Hénin."
"Gêvres follows her."
"Of course, since he is avowedly for la Châteauroux."