"How so?"
"A brevet like this; that is plain enough."
"But"
"I want one—I must have one!"
"Oh! oh! you must have one?"
"Yes."
"It, is impossible, is it not, Monsieur Malicorne?" said Louise, with her sweet soft voice.
"Dame! if it is for you, mademoiselle"
"For me. Yes, Monsieur Malicorne, it would be for me."
"And if Mademoiselle de Montalais asks it at the same time"
"Mademoiselle de Montalais does not ask it, she requires it."
"Well, we will endeavor to obey you, mademoiselle."
"And you will have her named?"
"We will try."
"No evasive reply. Louise de la Valliere shall be maid of honor to Madame Henrietta within a week."
"How you talk!"
"Within a week, or else"
"Well, or else?"
"You may take back your brevet, Monsieur Malicorne; I will not leave my friend."
"Dear Montalais!"
"That is right. Keep your brevet; Mademoiselle de la Valliere shall be a maid of honor."
"Is that true?"
"Quite true."
"I may then hope to go to Paris?"
"Depend upon it."
"Oh! Monsieur Malicorne, what gratitude!" cried Louise, clapping her hands, and bounding with joy.
"Little dissembler!" said Montalais, "try again to make me believe you are not in love with Raoul."
Louise blushed like a rose in June, but instead of replying, she ran and embraced her mother. "Madame," said she, "do you know that Monsieur Malicorne is going to have me appointed maid of honor?"
"Monsieur Malicorne is a prince in disguise," replied the old lady; "he is all-powerful, seemingly."
"Should you also like to be maid of honor?" asked Malicorne of Mme. de St. Remy. "While I am about it, I might as well get everybody appointed."
And upon that he went away, leaving the poor lady quite disconcerted, as Tallemont des Réaux would say.
