"It is de Mailly's own fault, then. He is mad, to betray such devotion. One would never believe that he had been brought up at Court."
"You are quite right, M. de Charost. Such honesty and truth as his are absurdities that we do not often discover here," observed de Coigny, shrugging his shoulders.
The Duchess, handed by Claude, whose eyes were fastened on her, followed by Victorine and Henri de Mailly-Nesle, was entering the salon. The perfumed crowd, half unconsciously, drew back a little on either side to make a way for her as they did for the King. Her bearing was certainly royal. The heavy velvet of her robe, with its glittering silver fern-leaves, swept about her like a coronation mantle. Her breast glittered with a mass of diamonds, and in her hair were five stars, fastened together like a coronet. She was turned slightly towards Claude, and noticed no one till he had finished what he was saying to her, so that all had time to note the manner of her entrance and the details of the costume. Then, as Richelieu pressed towards her, she gently dropped Claude's hand and turned aside.
He stood still for a moment where she left him, till he saw her quite surrounded with men and women. Then he moved away, dreading the next hour, but buoyed up with the thought of a promise she had given before they left her apartments. There were few people about him whom he did not know, and he bowed continually from right to left as he walked aimlessly through the throng. Oddly enough, however, as it seemed to him, the salutes that were returned were coldly formal. No one addressed him beyond a chilly "Good-evening," and Mme. de Grammont passed by with her eyes fixed on some distant goal. Claude's heart was beginning to throb a little, and he could feel the color surge over his face. Presently there was a touch upon his arm. Quickly he turned his head. M. de Berryer was beside him.
"Good-evening, M. de Mailly. Your face is troubled. In the midst of such a scene the expression is unusual. Am I impertinent to ask if I can be of service?"
Claude gave the man a quick and searching glance.
"Yes," he said, after a pause, "you can tell me, if you will, your idea as to why I am in disfavor with—all these. And, also, if you will, answer this question: is my present position dangerous?"
They had drawn a little to one side of the greatest press while Claude spoke. De Berryer stopped an instant to think before he replied; but when he did so it was evidently with perfect honesty.
"My dear Count, you are experiencing these little and very disagreeable cuts, in my opinion, first, because of your reckless attentions in spite of his Majesty's open displeasure; secondly, because of an unpleasant mistake in the story of your game with the King on Tuesday evening. The first matter you alone can rectify, but the method is simple. In the second, I will try to assist you. As to the—possible danger of your position—well, let me advise you to—do what may be done while it still is possible. Your pardon. Au revoir."
The Chief of Police, bowing courteously, turned aside and was lost in the crowd before Claude could say anything further. To tell the truth, the last words had nonplussed de Mailly not a little. Presently, however, he flung up his head, and, passing his hand over his forehead, muttered to himself: "You may be right—God knows you may be right. But no honest man gives up the woman he loves because his rival is a king. And, from my soul, I believe that in time Marie must love me in spite of all!" And so the lights grew a little brighter as Claude passed on again through the Gallery of Mirrors.