"No, I have not missed a single thing; and it wouldn't make any difference if I had; we love too many things, anyway, for our good. As to the house--it is too funny to see it. I laughed until I quite lost my breath. Everything is sticking out like the quills on a mad hedgehog, and the porch steps are smashed flat up against the ceiling. Oh!--it is too ridiculous! Just fancy, only the shelf in my boudoir is left where it used to be, and the plants are still blooming away up in the air as if nothing had happened. But not a word more of all this!" and she rose from her seat. "Take me to see the poor fellow at once!" Again Lemois bowed, this time with the greatest deference. The exalted rank of his guest was a fact he never lost sight of. "He is not here, madame," he said in an apologetic tone; "I have sent him home to his mother." "Home!--to his mother?--and after my despatch. Oh!--but I could take so much better care of him here! Why did you do it?" "For the best of reasons--first, because the doctor said he might go, and then because I"--and he lowered his voice and glanced around to see if Mignon had by any chance slipped into the room--"because," he added with a knowing smile, "it is sometimes dangerous to have so good-looking a fellow about." "So good of you, Lemois," she flashed back; "so thoughtful and considerate. Twenty years ago I might have lost my heart, but----" "Oh, but, madame--I never for an instant--" He was really frightened. "Oh, it was not _me_, then!" and one of her ringing, silvery laughs gladdened the room. "Who, then, pray?--certainly not that dear old woman with the white cap who--Oh!--I see!--it is that pretty little Norman maid. Such a winning creature, and so modest. Yes, I remember her distinctly. But why should not these two people love each other? He is brave, and you say he is handsome--what better can the girl have?" Lemois shrugged his shoulders in a helpless way, but with an expression on his obstinate face that showed his entire satisfaction with his own course. Madame read his thoughts and turned upon him, a dominating ring in her voice. "And you really mean, Lemois, that you are playing jailer, and shutting up two hearts in different cells?" Lemois, suddenly nonplussed, hesitated and looked away. We held our breaths for his answer. "Ah, madame," he replied at last slowly, all the fight knocked out of him, "it is not best that we discuss it. Better let me know what madame la marquise will have for dinner--we have waited all day until your wishes were known."