Ernestine said no more, for her father had assumed a severe expression which in him denoted that he had formed a resolution which no one could change. Monsieur de Noirmont then went to his wife and said to her in a cold and impressive tone: “Your humor is very capricious, madame, as anyone may see by the way in which you treat your daughter sometimes; but you extend it to defenceless servants also, and that is what I cannot endure. This young Louise, who came here to wait upon Ernestine, is honest and virtuous; her appearance is as becoming as her manners; I think that it would be difficult to find another so satisfactory; and yet you propose to dismiss her, madame--you expect me to turn a good girl out of my house, because, for some unknown reason, she has ceased to please you; because your fanciful humor makes you more difficult than ever to serve!--No, madame, that shall not be; I propose to be just before everything, and this girl shall remain in my house, because it would be unjust to send her away.” Madame de Noirmont had not a word to say in reply; she hung her head and seemed completely crushed. PART IV XXIV THE POLISH INTRIGUE Chérubin did not see Daréna for a week; he fretted and fumed with impatience, fearing that his intrigue with the pretty Pole had fallen through altogether; and, as is always the case, he became immeasurably more enamored of the object of his passion as his fear of not possessing her increased. It was for the purpose of giving him time to reach that climax of passion, that Daréna, who was thoroughly acquainted with the human heart, had allowed several days to elapse without going to see him. At last Daréna appeared at the hôtel de Grandvilain one morning, hurried and breathless, like a man who had galloped twelve leagues without a halt. He pushed old Jasmin aside and almost knocked him down, when that worthy retainer attempted to tell him that he did not know whether he could see his master, who had not yet risen. “I don’t care whether he’s up or in bed, he is always visible to me,” replied Daréna imperiously. “Learn, you old donkey of a valet, to know the persons whom your master is always delighted to receive.” As he spoke, Daréna rushed into the young marquis’s bedroom, leaving Jasmin propped against the wall, muttering in a voice that trembled with wrath: “Old donkey! he called me an old donkey! He’s an impertinent knave. The Grandvilains, father or son, never called me that. He’s not a donkey, but I have an idea that he’s a much more dangerous animal!” Daréna reached Chérubin’s bedside and pulled the curtains aside, crying: “Up, Joconde! up, Lovelace, Richelieu, Rochester! The moment of triumph has arrived at last!--Sapristi! I can fairly say, my dear fellow, that I have made myself ill for you! Ouf! I can do no more!” And Daréna threw himself on a couch, and mopped his face with his handkerchief.