"Monseigneur," said Germain, "she believed that she was at the house of M. Urbain, and following your orders I have not undeceived her."
"She appears to love him more than I had believed," said Villebelle, sighing.
"'Tis but the love of a young girl, monseigneur, a fierce fire, which soon burns itself out."
"May what you say be true, but Blanche bears no resemblance to other women whom I have seen up to this day. There is about her a candor, a frankness, finally, a something, I know not what, which commands respect. I cannot explain to you the feeling with which she inspires me. Her tears sear my heart. I wish to win her love by the attentions which I shall lavish upon her. It will take some time, perhaps; but no matter, I feel capable of restraining my passion, of submitting to everything which she may exact of me. You see, Germain, that I am truly in love, for I no longer recognize self, and near Blanche I feel as timid as a child."
"We must see if that will last, monseigneur."
"Ah, you don't understand what I experience. Germain, you must start tomorrow morning for Paris; I will give you what money is necessary, and you will bring back everything you can find of the prettiest and newest in ornaments, stuffs, and jewels. Spare nothing, that we may find something to please Blanche."
"Rely on me, monseigneur."
"How many servants are in the château?"
"The old porter, who never leaves his door, believing himself the guardian of a citadel; his daughter Marie, whom monseigneur saw just now, and who is the only woman I found at the château."
"Is she capable of waiting on Blanche?"