"I say I am going to belong to her household, as maid of honor; that is what I say."
"As maid of honor!" cried, at the same time, Mme. de St. Kemy, with despair, and Mile, de la Valliere with delight.
"Yes, madame, as maid of honor."
The old lady's head sank down as if the blow had been too severe for her. But, almost immediately recovering herself, she launched a last projectile at her adversary. "Oh! oh!" said she; "I have heard of many of these sorts of promises beforehand, which often lead people to flatter themselves with wild hopes, and, at the last moment, when the time comes to keep the promises, and have the hopes realized, they are surprised to see the great credit upon which they reckoned reduced to smoke."
"Oh, madame, the credit of my protector is incontestable, and his promises are as good as acts."
"And would it be indiscreet to ask you the name of this powerful protector?"
"Uh! mon Dieu! no! It is that gentleman there," said Montalais, pointing to Malicorne, who, during this scene, had preserved the most imperturbable coolness and the most comic dignity.
"Monsieur!" cried Mme. de St. Remy, with an explosion of hilarity, "monsieur is your protector! Is the man whose credit is so powerful, and whose promises are as good as acts. Monsieur Malicorne!" Malicorne bowed. As to Mon- talais, as her sole reply, she drew the brevet from her pocket, and showed it to the old lady.
"Here is the brevet," said she.
At once all was over. As soon as she had cast a rapid glance over this fortunate brevet, the good lady clasped her hands, an unspeakable expression of envy and despair contracted her countenance, and she was obliged to sit down to avoid fainting. Montalais was not malicious enough to rejoice extravagantly at her victory, or to overwhelm the conquered enemy, particularly when that enemy was the mother of her friend; she used, then, but did not abuse, her triumph. Malicorne was less generous; he assumed noble poses in his fauteuil, and stretched himself out with a familiarity which, two hours earlier, would have drawn upon him threats of a caning.
"Maid of honor to the young madame!" repeated Mme. de St. Eemy, still but half-convinced.
