Madame de Ravenelle, reclining on an immense couch, listened to her niece, keeping time gently with her head, and smiling with the contented expression of a person whose digestion is good and who has no cares. The fair Valentine was a long way from displaying a countenance as placid as her aunt's; her brow often contracted; her mouth expressed melancholy rather than pleasure, and her eyes, which she turned constantly from side to side, indicated that her mind was deeply preoccupied. "Well! go on, Valentine; why have you stopped singing?" inquired the old lady. "What do you say, aunt? was I singing?" "Well! this is charming! do you mean that you did not know it? that you sang without being aware of it?" "I assure you, aunt, that I was not thinking of music at all!" "Is it possible? However, you have been so distraught, so pensive, for some time past, that if I did not know you, I should really believe that you had some passion in your heart!--But I am not at all alarmed in that direction; I know that you love no one!" "That is true, aunt: I have no love for anyone." "Still, you will have to decide some day. You do not lack suitors, at all events; there are more than ten gentlemen, rich and of noble birth, who seek your hand. I say to them all: 'Wait, be patient; she will come to it.'" Valentine made no reply. But, a few minutes later, she asked: "Did you hear anything last evening, aunt, at Madame de Brissac's reception, of a very--a very extraordinary occurrence?" "No, niece, no; and I prefer not to. Extraordinary events sometimes cause keen emotion, and I dislike anything that disturbs my delightfully quiet life." "Well, I heard two young gentlemen talking within a few feet of me--not so low that I could not hear their words. One of them said: 'Yes, my friend, Léodgard de Marvejols is married.'--'That is impossible,' the other replied; 'why should his marriage be kept secret?'--The first one answered; but just then he and his friend walked away, so that I could learn nothing more." "You must have heard wrong, niece; or else the young gentleman was amusing himself at his friend's expense.--A man of the Marvejols blood does not contract a marriage without letting it be known beforehand in society! That would in truth be most extraordinary!" At that moment a servant appeared and announced the Baron de Germandré. The old lady ordered him to be admitted, and soon a little, wizened, bald-headed old man entered the salon, saluted the ladies with all the grace of a courtier, and, after presenting his respects with a sprightly air, dropped upon a sofa, saying: "Great news, mesdames! great news! I am always among the first to learn the news, you know. I like that; early fruits are always agreeable: ha! ha! ha!" "What is it, Monsieur de Germandré?" asked Madame de Ravenelle, half raising her head; "is the king making love to his wife? is Richelieu out of favor?"