"Save me! My mother will be here to-morrow! If she learns of my fault, I shall be undone! Oh! I implore you, delay no longer! Ask my father for my hand; avow your love to him, so that I may be your wife, so that I may love you without blushing! Otherwise, my mother will find a way to prevent me from seeing you; and I shall die of shame and grief combined!" Léodgard tried to allay Bathilde's terror and grief; he did not seem deeply afflicted to learn that Dame Ragonde's return would put an end to those pleasant nocturnal meetings. But for two months he had had nothing more to wish for, and he was only waiting for an opportunity to break off an intrigue in which he had obtained all that he sought. However, he concealed what was taking place in his mind from the girl, who wept bitterly; he pretended to share her chagrin; he was most lavish of oaths and promises, and swore that before long they would meet to part no more. The next day Dame Ragonde returned home, bringing the funds which she destined for her daughter's marriage portion. XXIII THE HÔTEL DE MONGARCIN It was the morrow of a grand reception given at the Hôtel de Mongarcin,--a function which had brought together the most noble dames and the gentlemen of the first families of France then residing in the capital. Madame de Ravenelle and her niece had done the honors of the fête; but Valentine especially had displayed that grace and refinement of manner which made her a noteworthy figure everywhere. It was she who had conceived the idea of giving a reception; and her aunt had consented, but on condition that her niece should take it upon herself to arrange and manage everything. The guests had conversed; they had played lansquenet, brelan, primero, dice, and other fashionable games; they had danced sarabands, _passe-pieds, branles_, and all the dances then in vogue. In fact, everybody had seemed delighted with the evening's entertainment, and had lavished compliments upon Valentine and Madame de Ravenelle, congratulating the latter upon having a niece who did the honors of her house so gracefully. And as the givers of a large party are usually very tired on the following day, the old aunt was stretched out on a reclining chair, from which she did not stir; while Valentine sat on a sofa, with her feet on a soft hassock, holding in her hands a piece of embroidery upon which she was not working. "Are you asleep, aunt?" inquired Valentine, after a very long silence. "I think not, niece; at all events, if I had been, your question would have waked me!" "Oh! I see that you were not asleep at all.--Our reception last night was very brilliant, was it not?" "If it is to ask me that that you interfere with my doze----" "No; I wanted to ask you also if you noticed that all those whom we invited came?" "All! do you think so?" "Yes, aunt, with the exception of a single one.--Oh! I am quite sure that you noticed that, too."