hink you can enter,
on some pretext, into the house of a princess, and go away and say, 'I
succeeded in my perfidy.' Ah! monsieur, that is not the behavior of a
gallant man."

"It seems to me, madame, that you are very hard on what would have been,
after all, only a trick of love, if it had not been, as I have already
told you, an affair of the greatest importance. I put aside all your
injurious expressions, and I will forget all I might have said,
affectionate or tender, since you are so badly disposed toward me. But I
will not go out from here under the weight of your unworthy suspicions.
I have a letter from the duke for Madame de Montpensier, and here it is;
you can see the handwriting and the address."

Ernanton held out the letter to the lady, but without leaving go of it.

She cast her eyes on it, and cried, "His writing! Blood!"

Without replying, Ernanton put the letter back in his pocket, bowed low,
and, very pale and bitterly hurt, turned to go. But she ran after him,
and caught him by the skirt of his cloak.

"What is it, madame?" said he.

"For pity's sake, pardon me; has any accident happened to the duke?"

"You ask me to pardon you, only that you may read this letter, and I
have already told you that no one shall read it but the duchesse."

"Ah! obstinate and stupid that you are," cried the duchess, with a fury
mingled with majesty; "do you not recognize me?--or rather, could you
not divine that I was the mistress?--and are these the eyes of a
servant? I am the Duchesse de Montpensier; give me the letter."

"You are the duchesse!" cried Ernanton, starting back.

"Yes, I am. Give it to me; I want to know what has happened to my
brother."

But instead of obeying, as the duchess expected, the young man,
recovering from his first surprise, crossed his arms.

"How can I believe you, when you have already lied to me twice?"

The duchess's eyes shot forth fire at these words, but Ernanton stood
firm.

"Ah! you doubt still--you want proofs!" cried she, tearing her lace
ruffles with rage.

"Yes, madame."

She darted toward the bell, and rang it furiously; a valet appeared.

"What does madame want?" said he.

She stamped her foot with rage. "Mayneville!" cried she, "I want
Mayneville. Is he not here?"

"Yes, madame."

"Let him come here."

The valet went, and, a minute after, Mayneville entered.

"Did you send for me, madame?" said he.

"Madame! And since when am I simply madame?" crie