"Not but what I think we might rival even the dazzling beauty of the Marquise de Montespan, not to mention inferior charms, by the importation into the capital of attractions quite as aristocratic and cultivated, and infinitely fresher. In fact, mademoiselle, the king himself has been good enough to inquire why you were not presented already, and to give orders that the ceremony should no longer be delayed. Does that please you?"
The color mounted swiftly to the young girl's face, and before replying she cast a glance through the glass-door by which they had just entered the saloon. Upon the terrace stood François with his brother Gaston; and, although their conversation was inaudible, the looks and gestures of both indicated annoyance on the part of the younger, insolence on the part of the elder, and a most unfraternal state of feeling on the part of both. The count's eyes followed those of his ward, and rested upon the two young men with a look of dissatisfaction for a moment; then he said,—
"François is nothing but a boy, and needs to see the world. I think I will close the château now that you are about to leave it, and send him to travel with the abbé for a while. He will come home a man."
"It is quite determined, then, that I should go to Paris!" exclaimed Valerie in a startled tone.
"The king himself invites you to do so," replied the count smoothly. "And what is more, my dear, he wishes you to be presented as Madame the Vicomtesse de Montarnaud."
"Monsieur! I the wife of Gaston! Impossible!"
