She had
recognised her aunt's voice and heard the name of Montriveau.
She was still in her loose morning-gown; and even as she came in,
M. de Grandlieu, looking carelessly out of the window, saw his
niece's carriage driving back along the street. The Duke took
his daughter's face in both hands and kissed her on the forehead.
"So, dear girl," he said, "you do not know what is going on?"
"Has anything extraordinary happened, father dear?"
"Why, all Paris believes that you are with M. de Montriveau."
"My dear Antoinette, you were at home all the time, were you
not?" said the Princess, holding out a hand, which the Duchess
kissed with affectionate respect.
"Yes, dear mother; I was at home all the time. And," she
added, as she turned to greet the Vidame and the Marquis, "I
wished that all Paris should think that I was with M. de
Montriveau."
The Duke flung up his hands, struck them together in despair, and
folded his arms.
"Then, cannot you see what will come of this mad freak?" he
asked at last.
But the aged Princess had suddenly risen, and stood looking
steadily at the Duchess, the younger woman flushed, and her eyes
fell. Mme de Chauvry gently drew her closer, and said, "My
little angel, let me kiss you!"
She kissed her niece very affectionately on the forehead, and
continued smiling, while she held her hand in a tight clasp.
"We are not under the Valois now, dear child. You have
compromised your husband and your position. Still, we will
arrange to make everything right.
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