us times. Faugh! it is revolting.
Those are the brothels of French history.

"This preamble, my dear child," she continued after a pause, "brings
me to the thing that I have to say. If you care for Montriveau, you are
quite at liberty to love him at your ease, and as much as you can. I
know by experience that, unless you are locked up (but locking people
up is out of fashion now), you will do as you please; I should have done
the same at your age. Only, sweetheart, I should not have given up my
right to be the mother of future Ducs de Langeais. So mind appearances.
The Vidame is right. No man is worth a single one of the sacrifices
which we are foolish enough to make for their love. Put yourself in
such a position that you may still be M. de Langeais' wife, in case you
should have the misfortune to repent. When you are an old woman, you
will be very glad to hear mass said at Court, and not in some provincial
convent. Therein lies the whole question. A single imprudence means an
allowance and a wandering life; it means that you are at the mercy of
your lover; it means that you must put up with insolence from women
that are not so honest, precisely because they have been very vulgarly
sharp-witted. It would be a hundred times better to go to Montriveau's
at night in a cab, and disguised, instead of sending your carriage in
broad daylight. You are a little fool, my dear child! Your carriage
flattered his vanity; your person would have ensnared his heart. All
this that I have said is just and true; but, for my own part, I do not
blame you. You are two centuries behind the times with your false ideas
of greatness. There, leave us to arrange your affairs, and say that
Montriveau made your servants drunk to gratify his vanity and to
compromise you----"

The Duchess rose to her feet with a spring. "In Heaven's name, aunt, do
not slander him!"

The old Princess's eyes flashed.

"Dear child," she said, "I should have liked to spare such of your
illusions as were not fatal. But there must be an end of all illusions
now. You would soften me if I were not so old. Come, now, do not vex
him, or us, or anyone else. I will undertake to satisfy everybody; but
promise me not to permit yourself a single step henceforth until you
have consulted me. Tell me all, and perhaps I may bring it all right
again."

"Aunt, I promise----"

"To tell me everything?"

"Yes, everything. Everything that can be told."

"But, my sweetheart, it is