France -- History -- Regency, 1715-1723 -- Fiction; Orléans, Philippe, duc d', 1674-1723 -- Fiction
"Well, when you know what she is, and to what you expose yourself."
"Do not jest, abbe, I beg."
"Ah! monseigneur, you distress me."
"What do you mean?"
"That you are taken by a glance, a single night fascinates you, and
there is no one to compare to the new comer. Is she then very pretty?"
"Charming."
"And discreet: virtue itself, I suppose."
"You are right."
"Well, I tell you, monseigneur, you are lost."
"I?"
"Yes; your Bretonne is a jade."
"Silence, abbe."
"Why silence?"
"I forbid you to say another word."
"Monseigneur, you, too, have had a dream--let me explain it."
"Monsieur Joseph, I will send you to the Bastille."
"As you please, monseigneur, but still you must know that this girl--"
"Is my daughter, abbe."
Dubois drew back stupefied.
"Your daughter; and who is her mother?"
"An honest woman, who had the honor of dying without knowing you."
"And the child?"
"The child has been concealed, that she might not be sullied by the
looks of such creatures as you."
Dubois bowed, and retired, respectfully.
The regent looked triumphant.
"Ah!" said Dubois, who had not quite closed the door, "I thought this
plot would bring me my archbishop's miter--if I am careful, it will
bring me my cardinal's hat."
CHAPTER XI.
RAMBOUILLET AGAIN.
At the appointed hour Gaston presented himself at Helene's domicile, but
Madame Desroches made some difficulty about admitting him; Helene,
however, said firmly that she was quite at liberty to judge for herself
what was right, and that she was quite determined to see M. de Livry,
who had come to take leave of her. It will be remembered that this was
the name which Gaston had assumed during the journey, and which he
intended to retain, except when with those connected with his mission to
Paris.
Madame Desroches went to her room somewhat out of humor, and even
attempted to overhear the conversation, but Helene bolted the outer
door.
"Ah, Gaston," said she, "I have been expecting you. I did not sleep last
night."
"Nor I, Helene; but I must admire all this splendor."
Helene smiled.
"And your head-dress--how beautiful you are, like this."
"You do not appear much pleased."
Gaston made no reply, but continued his investigations.
"These rich hangings, these costly pictures, all prove that your
protectors are opulent, Helene."
"I believe so," said Helene, smiling, "yet I am told that these
hangings, and this gilding, which you admire, are old and unfashionable,
and must be replaced by new."
"Ah, Helene, you will become a great lady," said Gaston, sighing;
"already I am kept waiting for an audience."
"My dear Gaston, did you not wait for hours in your little boat on the
lake?"
"You were then in the convent. I waited the abbess's pleasure."
"That title is sacred, is it not?"
"Yes."
"It gives security, imposes respect and obedience."
"Doubtless."
"Well, judge of my delight. Here I find the same protection, the same
love, only more powerful, more lasting."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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