The old lady ordered him to be admitted, and soon a little, wizened, bald-headed old man entered the salon, saluted the ladies with all the grace of a courtier, and, after presenting his respects with a sprightly air, dropped upon a sofa, saying:
"Great news, mesdames! great news! I am always among the first to learn the news, you know. I like that; early fruits are always agreeable: ha! ha! ha!"
"What is it, Monsieur de Germandré?" asked Madame de Ravenelle, half raising her head; "is the king making love to his wife? is Richelieu out of favor?"
"No, no, to-day's news does not concern the court, but a gentleman of noble lineage, of a very ancient family.—Why, it is utterly inconceivable! And if I had not had my information from the old Duc de Montaulac, who was one of the witnesses, I should refuse to believe it; but one must yield to evidence!"
"When you are willing to explain yourself fully, baron, we shall be very glad; for thus far you have confined yourself to most ambiguous phrases."
"That is true, mesdames—I beg pardon; this is the authentic news: the son of the Marquis de Marvejols, young Comte Léodgard, is married!"
"Married!" cried Madame de Ravenelle, unable to control a movement of surprise; and she glanced at her niece; but the latter remained impassive and simply pressed her lips tightly together, like one who was not at all surprised by what she heard.
"That would be perfectly natural," continued the baron; "the count's marriage was sure to come, and it would surprise no one if he had married someone of his own rank, a person of noble birth, of an illustrious family. But if you knew to whom he has given his name!—why, it is beyond belief; such a thing was never seen!"
"Really, baron, you are intolerable! You keep us in this suspense!"
"Oh! a thousand pardons, belle dame!—Well, the descendant of the house of Marvejols, Comte Léodgard, has married a girl of the common people—the daughter of a bath keeper. That is the sort of people with whom that noble gentleman has allied himself."