André escorted his mistress into an unoccupied room, and went to inform the nurse.
Not for many years, not since the happy days of Montgommery and Vimoutiers, had Aloyse and Diane met,—the woman of the people and the daughter of the king.
Yet both their lives had been engrossed by the same thought, and anxiety upon the same subject still filled their days with dread, and robbed their nights of sleep.
So when Aloyse, coming hurriedly into the room, would have bowed low before Madame de Castro, Diane threw herself into the good woman's arms, and warmly embraced her, saying as she used to say in the old days,—
"Dear nurse!"
"What, Madame!" exclaimed Aloyse, moved to tears, "do you really remember me? Do you recognize me?"
"Do I remember you! do I recognize you!" returned Diane; "you might as well ask me if I remember Enguerrand's house, or if I would recognize the Château de Montgommery!"
Meanwhile Aloyse with clasped hands was looking at Diane more attentively.
"How beautiful you are!" she cried, sighing and smiling at once.
She smiled, for she had dearly loved the young girl who had developed into the beautiful lady before her. She sighed, for as she dwelt upon her lovely features she could better estimate Gabriel's wretchedness.