"Grand-aunt," pled the young woman, "you have felt like us in your day, the longing for a home, a sweet refuge from the wretchedness of life. You had a lover to make you feel how sweet it might have been."
"Get these silly ideas out of your head," responded Madame l'Etiquette, ignoring Lecour, but speaking in a not unkindly manner. "Your rank demands an establishment, not a home. Monsieur understands that his position and yours are very different, and that two things at least are necessary in order to make your marriage possible—his standing as a Bodyguard, and a complete establishment. The riotous condition of his province makes the latter very dubious. You understand this, Monsieur de Lincy?"
"It must be admitted, Madame la Maréchale," Lecour said sorrowfully.
"You have some sense, I observe."
"But I can live without an establishment. A position is open to Germain in the provinces as Commandant of a school," Cyrène exclaimed.
Madame uttered an exclamation so energetic, and she rose so fiercely from her chair that Cyrène stopped in dismay.
"Saints of heaven!" went on the Maréchale, "is the family on the brink of a catastrophe? Can the Noailles, the Court, and the Crown afford to allow a Montmorency to annihilate herself? How dare you, forgetful of your relatives, your position, your descent from a hundred kings, advance such a proposal to the Chief Lady of Honour. I am something, Madame, and I intend to be considered, and to see that your family shall be considered. A pretty idea this, of rustic innocence and rural retirement, of straw bonnets and shepherding, of the new school to which you belong and who are the enemies of everything permanent. You are destroying customs to make way for theories, manners for boon comradeship, chivalry for finance, elegance for vulgarity, religion for atheism, and character for sentiment. You are to blame for all the present disorders, and such as you have brought about the burning of your own château. No, Madame, I will not permit the marriage. How dare you propose it to her, sir?"
Lecour said nothing. He could not.
Cyrène continued bravely.
"The matter is of the deepest concern—of infinite importance to us."