"De Gêvres was to see us again," he muttered, angrily.
"De Gêvres be—!" was the low reply. "I return to Versailles."
"And I accompany you.... Good Heaven, Claude, don't think that she meant it all! You see how everlastingly she must work against all that is generous in her."
"Ah, messieurs! Your morning interview with madame, your sister and cousin, was short. You are leaving the château?"
"We follow the example of his Majesty, monsieur."
"And I, gentlemen, shall follow your first lead. I hasten to pay my compliments to the Duchess. I have the honor to wish you an enjoyable ride."
Richelieu, in a morning toilet of fawn color and lavender, an embroidery bag upon his arm, a patch-box in one hand, smilingly passed the cousins and went on his way to the apartments of the favorite.
Madame was divested of her wraps and resigned to Marly for another two hours. Richelieu seated himself comfortably in the historic boudoir, one foot, prone to repentance for many truffles and overmuch vin d'Ai, reposing tenderly on a cushion, his embroidery in his hands, and a snuff-box near by. The favorite, gracious, but a trifle on her guard, placed herself opposite to him and waited.
The Duke took several contemplative stitches before he remarked, gently: "Madame, you look unwell this morning. Now, were I you, I should not be nervous. As I imagine, you were slightly rash yesterday—did not manage quite so perfectly as usual. You have, no doubt, sacrificed the cousin; but you are still secure."
"His Majesty has spoken to you?"