sigh.

"Oh! no," cried he, "or you would have sent away that woman."

"She has been here little more than half an hour, and I had no
expectation she would come this evening."

"You love me just a little, then, marquise?"

"That is not the question now; it is of your danger; how are your
affairs going on?"

"I am going this evening to get my friends out of the prisons of the
Palais."

"How will you do that?"

"By buying and bribing the governor."

"He is a friend of mine; can I assist you, without injuring you?"

"Oh! marquise, it would be a signal service; but how can you be employed
without your being compromised? Now, never shall my life, my power, or
even my liberty, be purchased at the expense of a single tear from your
eyes, or of one frown of pain upon your brow."

"Monseigneur, no more such words, they bewilder me; I have been culpable
in trying to serve you, without calculating the extent of what I was
doing. I love you in reality, as a tender friend; and as a friend, I am
grateful for your delicate attentions--but, alas!--alas! you will never
find a mistress in me."

"Marquise!" cried Fouquet, in a tone of despair; "why not?"

"Because you are too much beloved," said the young woman, in a low
voice; "because you are too much beloved by too many people--because
the splendor of glory and fortune wound my eyes, whilst the darkness
of sorrow attracts them; because, in short, I, who have repulsed you in
your proud magnificence; I who scarcely looked at you in your splendor,
I came, like a mad woman, to throw myself, as it were, into your arms,
when I saw a misfortune hovering over your head. You understand me now,
monseigneur? Become happy again, that I may remain chaste in heart and
in thought; your misfortune entails my ruin."

"Oh! madame," said Fouquet, with an emotion he had never before felt;
"were I to fall to the lowest degree of human misery, and hear from your
mouth that word which you now refuse me, that day, madame, you will
be mistaken in your noble egotism; that day you will fancy you are
consoling the most unfortunate of men, and you will have said, I love
you, to the most illustrious, the most delighted, the most triumphant of
the happy beings of this world."

He was still at her feet, kissing her hand, when Pellisson entered
precipitately, crying, in very ill-humor, "Monseigneur! madame! for
Heaven's sake! excuse me. Monseigneur, you have been here half an hour.
Oh! do not both lo