s by the older experience of the husband, the page began to
appear very much ashamed and very penitent; but for a day or two the
marquise, in spite of his apparent humility, kept him at a distance: at
last, reflecting no doubt, with the assistance of her mirror and of her
maid, that the crime was not absolutely unpardonable, and after having
reprimanded the culprit at some length, while he stood listening with
eyes cast down, she gave a him her hand, forgave him, and admitted him
to her companionship as before.

Things went on in this way for a week. The page no longer raised
his eyes and did not venture to open his mouth, and the marquise was
beginning to regret the time in which he used to look and to speak,
when, one fine day while she was at her toilet, at which she had allowed
him to be present, he seized a moment when the maid had left her alone,
to cast himself at her feet and tell her that he had vainly tried to
stifle his love, and that, even although he were to die under the weight
of her anger, he must tell her that this love was immense, eternal,
stronger than his life. The marquise upon this wished to send him away,
as on the former occasion, but instead of obeying her, the page, better
instructed, took her in his arms. The marquise called, screamed, broke
her bell-rope; the waiting-maid, who had been bought over, according to
the marquis's advice, had kept the other women out of the way, and
was careful not to come herself. Then the marquise, resisting force by
force, freed herself from the page's arms, rushed to her husband's room,
and there, bare-necked, with floating hair, and looking lovelier than
ever, flung herself into his arms and begged his protection against the
insolent fellow who had just insulted her. But what was the amazement of
the marquise, when, instead of the anger which she expected to see
break forth, the marquis answered coldly that what she was saying was
incredible, that he had always found the young man very well behaved,
and that, no doubt, having taken up some frivolous ground of resentment
against him, she was employing this means to get rid of him; but,
he added, whatever might be his love for her, and his desire to do
everything that was agreeable to her, he begged her not to require this
of him, the young man being his friend's son, and consequently his
own adopted child. It was now the marquise who, in her turn, retired
abashed, not knowing what to make of such a reply, and f