Mademoiselle turned her head and looked at me languidly, without
stirring in her chair or removing the foot she, was warming. 'Good
evening,' she said.

The greeting seemed so brief and so commonplace, ignoring, as it did,
both the pains and anxiety to which she had just put me and the great
purpose for which we were here--to say nothing of that ambiguous parting
which she must surely remember as well as I--that the words I had
prepared died on my lips, and I looked at her in honest confusion. All
her small face was pale except her lips. Her brow was dark, her eyes
were hard as well as weary. And not words only failed me as I looked at
her, but anger; having mounted the stairs hot foot to chide, I felt on a
sudden--despite my new cloak and scabbard, my appointment, and the same
I had made at Court--the same consciousness of age; and shabbiness and
poverty which had possessed me in her presence from the beginning. I
muttered, 'Good evening, mademoiselle,' and that was all I could say--I
who had frightened the burly Maignan a few minutes before!

Seeing, I have no doubt, the effect she produced on me, she maintained
for some time an embarrassing silence. At length she said, frigidly,
'Perhaps M. de Marsac will sit, Fanchette. Place a chair for him. I
am afraid, however, that after his successes at Court he may find our
reception somewhat cold. But we are only from the country,' she added,
looking at me askance, with a gleam of anger in her eyes.

I thanked her huskily, saying that I would not sit, as I could not stay.
'Simon Fleix,' I continued, finding my voice with difficulty, 'has, I am
afraid, caused you some trouble by bringing you to this house instead of
telling you that I had made preparation for you at my lodgings.'

'It was not Simon Fleix's fault,' she replied curtly. 'I prefer these
rooms. They are more convenient.'

'They are, perhaps, more convenient,' I rejoined humbly, 'But I have
to think of safety, mademoiselle, as you know. At my house I have a
competent guard, and can answer for your being unmolested.'

'You can send your guard here,' she said with a royal air.

'But, mademoiselle--'

'Is it not enough that I have said that I prefer these rooms?' she
replied sharply, dropping her mask on her lap and looking round at me in
undisguised displeasure. 'Are you deaf, sir? Let me tell you, I am in
no mood for argument. I am tired with riding. I prefer these rooms, and
that is enough!'

Nothing could