Part 18 (1/2)

”That would not be a bad notion,” said Catharine, smiling; ”for it is said”--

”That I need some perfumery,” interrupted Henry, laughing; ”who told you that, mother? Was it Margot?”

”No, my son,” replied Catharine, ”it was Madame de Sauve.”

At this moment the d.u.c.h.esse de Lorraine, who in spite of all her efforts could no longer contain herself, burst into loud sobs.

Henry did not even turn toward her.

”Sister, what is the matter?” cried Marguerite, darting toward Claude.

”Nothing,” said Catharine, pa.s.sing between the two young women, ”nothing; she has those nervous attacks, for which Mazille prescribes aromatic preparations.”

And again, and with still more force than before, she pressed her eldest daughter's arm; then, turning toward the youngest:

”There, Margot,” she said, ”did you not hear me request you to retire to your room? If that is not sufficient, I command you.”

”Excuse me, madame,” replied Marguerite, trembling and pale; ”I wish your majesty good-night.”

”I hope your wishes may be heard. Good-night--good-night!”

Marguerite withdrew, staggering, and in vain seeking to meet her husband's eyes, but he did not even turn toward her.

There was a moment's silence, during which Catharine remained with her eyes fastened on the d.u.c.h.ess of Lorraine, who, without speaking, looked at her mother with clasped hands.

Henry's back was still turned, but he was watching the scene in a mirror, while seeming to curl his mustache with a pomade which Rene had just given to him.

”And you, Henry,” said Catharine, ”are you still intending to go out?”

”Yes, that's true,” exclaimed the king. ”Faith, I was forgetting that the Duc d'Alencon and the Prince de Conde are waiting for me! These are admirable perfumes; they quite overpower one, and destroy one's memory.

Good evening, madame.”

”Good evening! To-morrow you will perhaps bring me tidings of the admiral.”

”Without fail--Well, Phoebe, what is it?”

”Phoebe!” said the queen mother, impatiently.

”Call her, madame,” said the Bearnais, ”for she will not allow me to go out.”

The queen mother rose, took the little greyhound by the collar, and held her while Henry left the apartment, with his features as calm and smiling as if he did not feel in his heart that his life was in imminent peril.

Behind him the little dog, set free by Catharine de Medicis, rushed to try and overtake him, but the door was closed, and Phoebe could only put her long nose under the tapestry and give a long and mournful howl.

”Now, Charlotte,” said Catharine to Madame de Sauve, ”go and find Messieurs de Guise and Tavannes, who are in my oratory, and return with them; then remain with the d.u.c.h.ess of Lorraine, who has the vapors.”

CHAPTER VII.