knows how to use her, might be Prime Minister of France.
And to fancy it--I came here to pick this sweet chestnut out of the fire
for Le Gardeur de Repentigny! Francois Bigot! as a man of gallantry and
fashion I am ashamed of you!"

These were his thoughts, but in words he replied, "The lady of
Beaumanoir is not my wife, perhaps never will be." Angelique's eager
question fell on very unproductive ground.

Angelique repeated the word superciliously. "'Perhaps!' 'Perhaps' in the
mouth of a woman is consent half won; in the mouth of a man I know it
has a laxer meaning. Love has nothing to say to 'perhaps': it is will or
shall, and takes no 'perhaps' though a thousand times repeated!

"And you intend to marry this treasure trove of the forest--perhaps?"
continued Angelique, tapping the ground with a daintier foot than the
Intendant had ever seen before.

"It depends much on you, Mademoiselle des Meloises," said he. "Had you
been my treasure-trove, there had been no 'perhaps' about it." Bigot
spoke bluntly, and to Angelique it sounded like sincerity. Her dreams
were accomplished. She trembled with the intensity of her gratification,
and felt no repugnance at his familiar address.

The Intendant held out his hand as he uttered the dulcet flattery, and
she placed her hand in his, but it was cold and passionless. Her heart
did not send the blood leaping into her finger-ends as when they were
held in the loving grasp of Le Gardeur.

"Angelique!" said he. It was the first time the Intendant had called her
by her name. She started. It was the unlocking of his heart she
thought, and she looked at him with a smile which she had practised with
infallible effect upon many a foolish admirer.

"Angelique, I have seen no woman like you, in New France or in Old; you
are fit to adorn a Court, and I predict you will--if--if--"

"If what, Chevalier?" Her eyes fairly blazed with vanity and pleasure.
"Cannot one adorn Courts, at least French Courts, without if's?"

"You can, if you choose to do so," replied he, looking at her
admiringly; for her whole countenance flashed intense pleasure at his
remark.

"If I choose to do so? I do choose to do so! But who is to show me the
way to the Court, Chevalier? It is a long and weary distance from New
France."

"I will show you the way, if you will permit me, Angelique: Versailles
is the only fitting theatre for the display of beauty and spirit like
yours."

Angelique thoroughly believed