ars that it is talked about, then?"

"I acknowledge that others have spoken to me on the subject."

"Who?" said the prince.

The chevalier assumed almost an angry air, as he replied, "Monseigneur,
you are subjecting me to cross-examination; you treat me as a criminal
at the bar; the rumors which idly pass by a gentleman's ears do not
remain there. Your highness wishes me to magnify rumors until it attains
the importance of an event."

"However," said the duke, in great displeasure, "the fact remains that
you withdrew on account of this report."

"To speak the truth, others have talked to me of the attentions of M. de
Guiche to Madame, nothing more; perfectly harmless, I repeat, and more
than that, allowable. But do not be unjust, monseigneur, and do not
attach any undue importance to it. It does not concern you."

"M. de Guiche's attentions to Madame do not concern me?"

"No, monseigneur; and what I say to you I would say to De Guiche
himself, so little do I think of the attentions he pays Madame. Nay,
I would say it even to Madame herself. Only you understand what I am
afraid of--I am afraid of being thought jealous of the favor shown,
when I am only jealous as far as friendship is concerned. I know your
disposition; I know that when you bestow your affections you become
exclusively attached. You love Madame--and who, indeed, would _not_ love
her? Follow me attentively as I proceed:--Madame has noticed among your
friends the handsomest and most fascinating of them all; she will begin
to influence you on his behalf in such a way that you will neglect the
others. Your indifference would kill me; it is already bad enough to
have to support Madame's indifference. I have, therefore, made up my
mind to give way to the favorite whose happiness I envy, even while I
acknowledge my sincere friendship and sincere admiration for him. Well,
monseigneur, do you see anything to object to in this reasoning? Is
it not that of a man of honor? Is my conduct that of a sincere friend?
Answer me, at least, after having so closely questioned me."

The duke had seated himself, with his head buried in his hands. After a
silence long enough to enable the chevalier to judge the effect of this
oratorical display, the duke arose, saying, "Come, be candid."

"As I always am."

"Very well. You know that we already observed something respecting that
mad fellow, Buckingham."

"Do not say anything against Madame, monseigneur, or I shall tak