f Saint-Protais--the day of two
martyrs! I have been telling my beads all the morning for Monsieur
de Cinq-Mars; and I could not help thinking of these things. And my
mistress thinks of them too, although she is a great lady; so you need
not laugh!"

With these words the young Italian glided like a bird across the large
dining-room, and disappeared down a corridor, startled at seeing the
great doors of the salon opened.

Grandchamp had hardly heard what she had said, and seemed to have
been occupied only with the preparations for dinner; he fulfilled the
important duties of major-domo, and cast severe looks at the domestics
to see whether they were all at their posts, placing himself behind the
chair of the eldest son of the house. Then all the inhabitants of the
mansion entered the salon. Eleven persons seated themselves at table.
The Marechale came in last, giving her arm to a handsome old man,
magnificently dressed, whom she placed upon her left hand. She seated
herself in a large gilded arm-chair at the middle of one side of the
table, which was oblong in form. Another seat, rather more ornamented,
was at her right, but it remained empty. The young Marquis d'Effiat,
seated in front of his mother, was to assist her in doing the honors of
the table. He was not more than twenty years old, and his countenance
was insignificant; much gravity and distinguished manners proclaimed,
however, a social nature, but nothing more. His young sister of
fourteen, two gentlemen of the province, three young Italian noblemen of
the suite of Marie de Gonzaga (Duchesse de Mantua), a lady-in-waiting,
the governess of the young daughter of the Marechale, and an abbe of the
neighborhood, old and very deaf, composed the assembly. A seat at the
right of the elder son still remained vacant.

The Marechale, before seating herself, made the sign of the cross,
and repeated the Benedicite aloud; every one responded by making the
complete sign, or upon the breast alone. This custom was preserved
in many families in France up to the Revolution of 1789; some still
practise it, but more in the provinces than in Paris, and not without
some hesitation and some preliminary words upon the weather, accompanied
by a deprecatory smile when a stranger is present--for it is too true
that virtue also has its blush.

The Marechale possessed an imposing figure, and her large blue eyes
were remarkably beautiful. She did not appear to have yet attained her
for