tion could sound no lamer.

"My compliments, madame, upon the humour that prevails in Dauphiny. But
your jest failed of its purpose. It did not amuse me, nor, so far as I
could discern, was Monsieur de Tressan greatly taken with it. But all
this is of little moment, madame," he continued. "Since you tell me that
Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye is content to remain here, I am satisfied
that it is so."

They were the very words that she desired to hear from him; yet his
manner of uttering them gave her little reassurance. The smile on her
lips was forced; her watchful eyes smiled not at all.

"Still," he continued, "you will be so good as to remember that I am not
my own master in this affair. Were that so, I should not fail to relieve
you at once of my unbidden presence."

"Oh, monsieur--"

"But, being the Queen's emissary, I have her orders to obey, and those
orders are to convey Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye to Paris. They make
no allowance for any change that may have occurred in mademoiselle's
inclinations. If the journey is now distasteful to her, she has but her
own rashness to blame in having sought it herself. What imports is that
she is bidden by the Queen to repair to Paris; as a loyal subject she
must obey the Queen's commands; you, as a loyal subject, must see to
it that she obeys them. So, madame, I count upon your influence with
mademoiselle to see that she is ready to set out by noon to-morrow.
One day already has been wasted me by your--ah--jest, madame. The Queen
likes her ambassadors to be brisk."

The Dowager reclined in her chair, and bit her lip. This man was too
keen for her. She had no illusions. He had seen through her as if she
had been made of glass; he had penetrated her artifices and detected
her falsehoods. Yet feigning to believe her and them, he had first
neutralized her only weapons--other than offensive--then used them for
her own defeat. Marius it was who took up the conversation.

"Monsieur," he cried--and there was a frown drawing together his fine
brows--"what you suggest amounts to a tyranny on the Queen's part."

Garnache was on his feet, his chair grating the polished floor.

"Monsieur says?" quoth he, his glittering eye challenging the rash boy
to repeat his words.

But the Dowager intervened with a little trill of laughter.

"Bon Dieu! Marius, what are you saying? Foolish boy! And you, Monsieur
de Garnache, do not heed him, I beg you. We are so far from Court in
this littl