She did not lay the cards to one side, nor did she rise from her chair when the baroness came toward her and said in a friendly tone:
"Well, Lisette, I dare say you do not know that I am your neighbor from the manor?"
"Oh, yes, I do. I used often to hear my poor old man talk about the beautiful lady over yonder, and of course you must be she."
"And do you know that I expect to be Count Vavel's wife?"
"I did not know it, your ladyship, but it is natural. A gallant gentleman and a beautiful lady—if they are thrown together then there follows either marriage or danger. A marriage is better than a danger."
"This time, Lisette, marriage and danger go hand in hand. The count is preparing for the war."
This announcement had no other effect on the impassive mountain of flesh than to make her shuffle her cards more rapidly.
"Then it is come at last!" she muttered, cutting the cards, and glancing at the under one. It was only a knave, not the queen!
"Yes," continued the baroness; "the recruiting-flag already floats from the tower of the castle, and to-morrow volunteers will begin to enroll their names."
"God help them!" again muttered the woman.