llisson.

"What have you to say against her?"

"Nothing, alas! and it is that which causes my despair. Nothing,
absolutely nothing. Why can I not, on the contrary, say ill enough of
her to prevent your going to her?"

But Fouquet had already given orders to stop, and the carriage was
motionless. "Prevent me!" cried Fouquet; "why, no power on earth should
prevent my going to pay my compliments to Madame de Plessis-Belliere,
besides, who knows that we shall not stand in need of her!"

"No, monseigneur no!"

"But I do not wish you to wait for me, Pellisson," replied Fouquet,
sincerely courteous.

"The more reason I should, monseigneur; knowing that you are keeping
me waiting, you will, perhaps, stay a shorter time. Take care! You
see there is a carriage in the courtyard: she has some one with her."
Fouquet leant towards the steps of the carriage. "One word more," cried
Pellisson; "do not go to this lady till you have been to the concierge,
for Heaven's sake!"

"Eh! five minutes, Pellisson," replied Fouquet, alighting at the steps
of the hotel, leaving Pellisson in the carriage, in a very ill-humor.
Fouquet ran upstairs, told his name to the footman, which excited an
eagerness and a respect that showed the habit the mistress of the house
had of honoring that name in her family. "Monsieur le surintendant,"
cried the marquise, advancing, very pale, to meet him; "what an honor!
what an unexpected pleasure!" said she. Then, in a low voice, "Take
care!" added the marquise, "Marguerite Vanel is here!"

"Madame," replied Fouquet, rather agitated, "I came on business. One
single word, and quickly, if you please!" And he entered the salon.
Madame Vanel had risen, paler, more livid, than Envy herself. Fouquet
in vain addressed her, with the most agreeable, most pacific salutation;
she only replied by a terrible glance darted at the marquise and
Fouquet. This keen glance of a jealous woman is a stiletto which pierces
every cuirass; Marguerite Vanel plunged it straight into the hearts of
the two confidants. She made a courtesy to her friend, a more profound
one to Fouquet, and took leave, under pretense of having a number of
visits to make, without the marquise trying to prevent her, or Fouquet,
a prey to anxiety, thinking further about her. She was scarcely out
of the room, and Fouquet left alone with the marquise, before he threw
himself on his knees, without saying a word. "I expected you," said the
marquise, with a tender