The marquis, accompanied by Lucilio, betook himself to that tower to receive the lady of his thoughts. He would have been glad to take his heir with him; but Mario was in Adamas's hands, and, moreover, it was part of a plan finally proposed by the latter, and adopted with some modifications by his master, that the child's appearance on the scene should be postponed until the conclusion of an explanation on a delicate subject with Madame de Beuvre. XXXV Lauriane arrived, riding a beautiful little white horse which her father had trained for her, and which she managed with remarkable grace. Thanks to her mourning, which the fashion of that day permitted to be white, she, too, was dressed _à la paysanne_, with a habit of fine white broadcloth, a waist with stripes of silver lace, and a light lace handkerchief over the inevitable widow's cap. "Well, well!" cried the downright De Beuvre, when he saw the marquis's costume, "so you have already assumed your lady's colors, my dear son-in-law?" His daughter succeeded in making him hold his peace before the servants; but, when they were in the salon, despite the promise he had made her to refrain from all jesting on the subject, he could not contain himself, and asked with deep interest when the wedding was to be. Instead of being annoyed or embarrassed, the marquis was exceedingly pleased at this opening, and requested a secret interview touching a matter of great gravity. The valets were dismissed, the doors closed, and Bois-Doré, kneeling at dear little Lauriane's feet, addressed her in these terms: "Queen of youth and beauty, you see at your feet a loyal servant whom a most momentous event has filled with pleasure and embarrassment, with joy and grief, with hope and fear. When, two days since, I offered my heart, my name and my fortune to the most amiable of nymphs, I deemed myself unfettered by any other duty or attachment. But----" Here the marquis was interrupted. "Gadzooks! monsieur my son-in-law," cried De Beuvre, affecting violent indignation and rolling his eyes fiercely, "you make sport of us, do you, and think that I am a man to allow you to retract your word after you have transfixed my poor child's heart with the deadly shaft of love?" "Oh! hush, pray, my dear father!" said Lauriane, smilingly and sweetly; "you compromise me. Luckily I can be certain that the marquis will not believe me to be so capricious that, after I have asked him for seven years for reflection, I can be already so eager to summon him to keep his word." "Allow me to speak," said the marquis, taking Lauriane's hand in his. "I know, my sovereign, that you have no love in your heart, and it is that which gives me the courage to crave your pardon. And do you, my dear neighbor, laugh with all your strength, for there is abundant occasion. And I will laugh with you to-day, although yesterday I shed many tears."