TIENS!"
and she gave a little shrug and sigh, "It is sad to think he died of
over-eating."
The Marquis laughed.
"You are incorrigible, belle Loyse!" he said, "You should write
these things, not speak them."
"Really! And do I not write them? Yes, you know I do, and that you
envy me my skill. The Figaro is indebted to me for many admirable
essays. At the same time I do not give you permission to call me
Loyse."
"Forgive me!" and the Marquis folded his hands with an air of mock
penitence.
"Perhaps I will, presently," and she laughed, "But meanwhile I want
you to do something for me."
"Toujours a votre service, madame!" and Fontenelle bowed profoundly.
"How theatrical you look! You are alarmingly like Miraudin;--and one
MUST draw the line at Miraudin! This is a day of truth according to
the Abbe Vergniaud; how dare you say you are at my service when you
do not mean it?"
"Princesse, I protest . . ."
"Oh, protest as much as you like,--on the way to Rome!"
The Marquis started.
"To Rome?"
"Yes, to Rome. I am going, and I want someone to look after me. Will
you come? All Paris will say we have eloped together." She laughed
merrily.
The Marquis stood perplexed and silent.
"Well, what is it?" went on the Princesse gaily, "Is there some
faint sense of impropriety stealing over you? Not possible! Dear me,
your very muscles are growing rigid! You will not go?"
"Madame, if you will permit me to be frank with you,--I would rather
not!"
"A la bonheur!--then I have you!" And the Princesse rose, a dazzling
smile irradiating her features, "You have thrown open your heart!
You have begun to reform! You love Sylvie Hermenstein--yes!--you
positively LOVE her!"
"Princesse--" began the Marquis, "I assure you--"
"Assure me nothing!" and she looked him straight in the eyes, "I
know all about it! You will not journey with me because you think
the Comtesse Sylvie will hear of it, and put a wrong construction on
your courtesy.
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