ht and mocked
her pity. It was a misery of solitude, and yet no thought crossed her
of going to weep and sympathize with the other sufferer. No; rivalry
and jealousy came in there! Eustacie viewed herself as his wife, and the
very thought that she had been deliberately preferred and had enjoyed
her triumph hardened Diane's heart against her. Nay, the open violence
and abandonment of her grief seemed to the more restrained and
concentrated nature of her elder a sign of shallowness and want of
durability; and in a certain contemptuous envy at her professing a right
to mourn, Diane never even reconsidered her own resolution to play out
her father's game, consign Eustacie to her husband's murdered, and leave
her to console herself with bridal splendours and a choice of admirers
from all the court.

However, for the present Diane would rather stay away as much as
possible from the sick-bed of the poor girl; and when an approaching
step forced her to rouse herself and hurry away by the other door of
the chapel, she did indeed mount to the ladies' bed-chamber, but only to
beckon Veronique out of hearing and ask for her mistress.

Just the same still, only sleeping to have feverish dreams of the
revolving wheel or the demons grappling her husband, refusing all food
but a little drink, and lying silent except for a few moans, heedless
who spoke or looked at her.

Diane explained that in that case it was needless to come to her, but
added, with the _vraisemblance_ of falsehood in which she had graduated
in Catherine's school, 'Veronique, as I told you, you were mistaken.'

'Ah, Mademoiselle, if M. le Baron lives, she will be cured at once.'

'Silly girl,' said Diane, giving relief to her pent-up feeling by
asperity of manner, 'how could he live when you and your intrigues got
him into the palace on such a night? Dead he is, OF COURSE; but it was
your own treacherous, mischievous fancy that laid it on my brother. He
was far away with M. de Guise at the attack on the Admiral. It was some
of Monsieur's grooms you saw. You remember she had brought him into a
scrape with Monsieur, and it was sure to be remembered. And look you, if
you repeat the other tale, and do not drive it out of her head, you need
not look to be long with her--no, nor at home. My father will have no
one there to cause a scandal by an evil tongue.'

That threat convinced Veronique that she had been right; but she, too,
had learnt lessons at the Louvre, and s