"Honorable intentions with such a face!" cried Mme. de St. Remy.
"I thank you in the name of my face, madame," said Malicorne.
"Come, my daughter, come," continued Mme. de St. Eemy; "we will go and inform madame that at the very moment she is weeping for her husband, at the moment when we are all weeping for a master in this old castle of Blois, the abode of grief, there are people who amuse themselves with rejoicing."
"Oh!" cried both the accused with one voice.
"A maid of honor! a maid of honor!" cried the old lady, lifting her hands toward heaven.
"Well, it is that in which you are mistaken, madame," said Montalais, highly exasperated; "I am no longer a maid of honor, of madame's, at least."
"Have you given in your resignation, mademoiselle? That is well; I cannot but applaud such a determination, and I do applaud it."
"I did not give in my resignation, madame; I have taken another service, that is all."
"In the bourgeoisie or in the robe?" asked Mme. de St. Eemy disdainfully.
"Please to learn, madame, that I am not a girl to serve either bourgeoises or robines; and that instead of the miserable court at which you vegetate, I am going to reside in a court almost royal."
"Ah! ah! a royal court," said Mme. de St. Remy, forcing a laugh; "a royal court! What think you of that, my daughter?"
And she turned round toward Mile, de la Valliere, whom she would by main force have dragged away from Montalais, and who, instead of obeying the impulse of Mme. de St. Eomy, looked first at her mother and then at Montalais with her beautiful, conciliatory eyes.
"I did not say a royal court, madame," replied Montalais; "because Madame Henrietta of England, who is about to become the wife of S. A. R. Monsieur, is not a queen. I said, almost royal, and I spoke correctly, since she will be sister-in-law to the king."
A thunderbolt falling upon the castle of Blois would not have astonished Mme. de St. Remy as did the last sentence of Montalais.
"What do you say of Son Altesse Eoyale Madame Henrietta?" stammered out the old lady.
