Chaumelle more than won his prize, for it was but just half-past when the cousins, having finished their coffee and eggs, were announced at the apartments of the Duchess.
Mme. de Châteauroux, pelissed, hooded, and muffed in crimson velvet and sables, sat pensively at her window, awaiting the arrival of her sleigh. She rose in unfeigned agitation at the entrance of Claude and her brother.
"Ah, Monsieur le Comte! How rash you are! You compromise me; you—you make your own case infinitely worse. Henri, how could you have permitted him to come?"
"Madame!" cried Claude, beseechingly, but the Marquis interrupted.
"The King, Anne, has left Marly. You—"
"I know. I know. Whom did you see in the hallway as you came here? Any one?"
"De Gêvres and Richelieu," answered Claude.
Henri, frowning, pinched him.
"Good Heaven!" cried the Duchess; "we are lost, both you and I! Oh, you are thoughtless, cruel! Go at once, both of you, and let de Gêvres see you instantly depart for Versailles. I shall not now leave here until twelve o'clock. Go! Go!"
She fairly pushed them from her into her antechamber, pointing, as she did so, to the outer door. Claude had turned scarlet, but Henri was very pale. Both of them bowed in silence; for there seemed no words suitable for bidding the "fair and haughty," now very tearful and eager Châteauroux, good-bye. Once outside, the Marquis turned and looked at Claude.