ademoiselle de la Valliere?"

"Mademoiselle de Montalais, monsieur."

"And who is Mademoiselle de Montalais?"

"A young lady I did not know before, whom I had never seen. She is maid
of honor to Madame."

"Monsieur le vicomte, I will push my interrogatory no further, and
reproach myself with having carried it so far. I had desired you
to avoid Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and not to see her without my
permission. Oh, I am quite sure you have told me the truth, and that you
took no measures to approach her. Chance has done me this injury; I do
not accuse you of it. I will be content then, with what I formerly
said to you concerning this young lady. I do not reproach her with
anything--God is my witness! only it is not my intention or wish that
you should frequent her place of residence. I beg you once more, my dear
Raoul, to understand that."

It was plain the limpid eyes of Raoul were troubled at this speech.

"Now, my friend," said the comte, with his soft smile, and in his
customary tone, "let us talk of other matters. You are returning,
perhaps, to your duty?"

"No, monsieur, I have no duty for to-day, except the pleasure of
remaining with you. The prince kindly appointed me no other: which was
so much in accord with my wish."

"Is the king well?"

"Perfectly."

"And monsieur le prince also?"

"As usual, monsieur."

The comte forgot to inquire after Mazarin; that was an old habit.

"Well, Raoul, since you are entirely mine, I will give up my whole day
to you. Embrace me--again, again! You are at home, vicomte! Ah, there
is our old Grimaud! Come in, Grimaud: monsieur le vicomte is desirous of
embracing you likewise."

The good old man did not require to be twice told; he rushed in with
open arms, Raoul meeting him halfway.

"Now, if you please, we will go into the garden, Raoul. I will show
you the new lodging I have had prepared for you during your leave of
absence, and whilst examining the last winter's plantations and two
saddle-horses I have just acquired, you will give me all the news of our
friends in Paris."

The comte closed his manuscript, took the young man's arm, and went out
into the garden with him.

Grimaud looked at Raoul with a melancholy air as the young man passed
out; observing that his head nearly touched the traverse of the doorway,
stroking his white royale, he slowly murmured:

"How he has grown!"

CHAPTER 5. In which Something will be said of Cropoli--of Cropoli