Part 4 (1/2)

De Rilly now expressed an intention of going out to take the air, but I preferred to stay where I was; for Mlle. d'Arency had remained in the gallery, with some other of Catherine's ladies. So the loquacious equerry went without me.

I formed a bold resolution. Quelling the trepidation that came with it, I strode quickly over to Mlle. d'Arency, who still stood against the tapestry as if she had been a figure in it but had come to life and stepped out into the apartment.

Her large eyes fell on me, and opened slightly wider, showing at once recognition and a not unpleasant surprise. I bowed very low, partly to conceal the flush that I felt mounting to my face.

”Pardon me, Mlle. d'Arency,” I said, in a voice as steady as I could make it. Then I looked at her and saw her features a.s.suming an expression of such coldness and astonishment that for some time neither my tongue nor my mind could continue the speech, nor could I move a step in retreat.

All the while she kept her eyes upon me.

I drew a deep breath at last, and said in desperation:

”Doubtless I ought not to address you, being unknown to you, but if you will permit me, I will go and bring M. de Rilly, who will present me.”

Her face softened somewhat, and she looked amused. ”You seem quite able to present yourself,” she said.

I was immensely relieved at this melting of the ice, just when I was beginning to feel that I was becoming a spectacle.

”I am Ernanton de Launay, Sieur de la Tournoire,” I said, and to fill up the embarra.s.sing pause that followed, I added, ”and, being a Huguenot, I am a n.o.body in Paris,--in fact, a mere volunteer in the French Guards.”

”Well, Monsieur Guardsman, what do you wish to say to me?”

She was now in quite a pleasant, quizzical mood.

”I trust you do not expect me to say it in one word,” I answered; and then I lowered my voice, ”or in a single interview.”

”It does not matter how many interviews it requires, if it is interesting,” she answered nonchalantly.

”Alas!” I said. ”I fear it is a story which many others have told you.”

”An old story may seem new, when it comes from new lips.”

”And when it is new to the lips that tell it, as mine is. Actually, I have never before made a confession of love.”

”Am I to understand that you are about to make one now?”

”Have I not already made it?” I said.

We now stood quite apart from all others in the gallery, unnoticed by them; and our voices had fallen almost to a whisper.

She smiled, as if refusing to take my words seriously.

”If you have waited so long before making any confession of love whatever,” she said, ”you have certainly made up for the delay by the speed which you use in making your first.”

”On the contrary, I have had my confession ready for a long time, as my love has existed for a long time. I waited only to meet its object,--the woman of whom I had formed the ideal in my mind.”

She looked as if about to burst into a laugh; but she changed her mind, and regarded me with a look of inquiry, as if she would read my heart.

The smile was still on her lips, yet she spoke gravely when she said:

”Monsieur, I cannot make you out. If you are as sincere as you are original,--but I must go to the Queen-mother now. To-morrow afternoon, I shall walk in the gardens of the Tuileries, if the weather is clear.”