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"Have you been to Prince d'Alchingen's, or has he approached you in any way?" "I am to dine with him to-morrow." "Has he said anything to you about the Marquis of Castrillon?" "Not a word," replied Robert, in surprise: "why should he?" "I believe there is mischief in the air. Be careful, won't you? Reckage is watching us. I think he would like some music. He is so triste this evening."
"How charming! And what will you play?" "I play the Marquise in one of Marivaux's comedies." "And who will play the Marquis?" asked Sara. "There is no Marquis," answered Brigit, laughing a little. "But," she added, "there is a Chevalier and a Comte. One of Prince d'Alchingen's attachés will play the Comte. M. de Castrillon will play the part of the Chevalier."
"We are here," said he. The secret door was opened, and Castrillon, still wearing his costume as the Chevalier, joined them. If one may believe Prince d'Alchingen's account of this unfortunate meeting, the young men greeted each other with composure.
"Now," she thought, "he is going to show temper." "I came to tell you that, also," she repeated. "Pensée is opposed to the whole scheme. Mrs. Parflete stamped her very beautiful foot, and said, 'I go. Do you approve?" "I am to meet Castrillon to-night at the Prince d'Alchingen's," he answered, evading her question. "How you hate him!" "What makes you think so?" "I know your face.
In future, call me the busybody! I must go now. I have made you late for d'Alchingen's dinner. What a lesson to those about to make themselves useful! And how right you were not to get bitter! I take things too much to heart. I must pray for flippancy. Then, perhaps, I may find no fault with this world, or with you, or with anybody!" "I am bitter enough don't doubt it."
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