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Will you bear my apology to the Marchioness de Bonaletta, and say that I regret to be obliged to interrupt her pleasures, but must request her attendance."
"Yes, your highness; and, by his first marriage, had a son and a daughter. With the latter, the present Duchess de la Roche Guyon, my mother lived in perfect harmony, but her step-son, Barbesieur, hated her, and finally caused her to quit her husband's house, and take refuge with her mother, the Marchioness de Bonaletta." "I remember," returned the duchess.
The marquis hastened away with his message, and just as Prince Eugene had so far recovered himself as to be able to address a few murmured words of thanks to his beautiful partner, just as she was looking bashfully into his face, and had seen that his large black eyes were moistened with tears, she heard a voice at her side: "Madame is suddenly indisposed, and regrets to say that she requires the attendance of the Marchioness de Bonaletta.
I came here to show his majesty that I shall maintain my rights in the face of his displeasure, and here I shall remain, though she and every other woman here do homage to my foes. What is the Marchioness Bonaletta to me?" But, in spite of himself, his eyes would wander to the spot where she stood, and his heart seemed ready to burst when he beheld Barbesieur approach her.
"I will give you any thing you desire, and my eternal gratitude to boot, if you will help me to become possessor of that angel." "I am passionately fond of hunting, and the Marchioness de Bonaletta has the most tempting bit of woods that ever made a hunter's heart ache to call it his. Now if you marry Laura, you become her guardian, and have absolute power over her property."
"The Marchioness Bonaletta is too proud and chaste to be the mistress of any man," returned Strozzi, with some return of courtesy. "What do you know of me? I counsel you not to build your hopes upon any estimate you may have formed of my notions of honor, for they will sorely deceive you, if you do."
The Marchioness Bonaletta, as a matter of course, had followed her mistress; but during his short colloquy with the latter, Eugene had received so sweet a smile from her attendant, that he followed at a distance; resolved, since he could do no more, to gaze at her until the ball was over.
"Of course I love her," was the lying response. "You remember do you not that you were indebted to me for your marriage with Laura Bonaletta?" "Bonaletta!" screamed Strozzi. "There is no Laura Bonaletta; her name is Laura Strozzi, the Marchioness Strozzi, my wife! Remember that, sir remember it." "To be sure, to be sure," murmured Barbesieur; "he has forgotten everybody but that tiresome Laura.
Take advantage, then, of your opportunity; say all that you have to say, and spare yourself the trouble of sending me your petitions by writing." "I have no petitions to make to you, oral or written. I came hither to claim for her royal mistress the Marchioness de Bonaletta, your daughter." "And I repeat my question.
Seeing that no one was there to announce the countess, the lackey knocked until he heard a voice from within. He then threw the door wide open, and cried out "The Countess de Soissons!" Barbesieur, who was seated before a table, deep in the examination of the title-deeds of the Bonaletta estates, started up in amazement at the unceremonious interruption.
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