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"Madame," said Joyeuse, without any preface, "you are the lady of the Rue des Augustins; that mysterious person with whom my brother, Monsieur le Comte du Bouchage, is so passionately and madly in love." The hospitaliere bowed her head in reply, but did not open her lips.
With these words the superior made another low courtesy to the duke and disappeared. Ten minutes afterward she returned, accompanied by an hospitaliere, whose veil completely covered her face. It was Diana, who had already assumed the dress of the order.
The hospitaliere rose. "If you come here to insult a woman," she said, with the same calm self-possession, "insult me, monsieur; if, however, you have come to induce me to change my opinion, you are wasting your time, and can withdraw." "Ah! you are no human creature!" exclaimed Joyeuse, exasperated. "You are possessed by an evil spirit." "I have answered already; I will reply no further.
I have none; nor do I wish for any." "That was not my reply, monsieur, and you have been incorrectly informed," said the hospitalière, in so noble and touching a tone of voice that Joyeuse's anger was in a moment subdued. "The actual words are immaterial, madame, when their sense has been conveyed. You have rejected my brother, and have reduced him to despair."
Since that is not sufficient, I shall withdraw." And the hospitaliere advanced toward the door. Joyeuse stopped her. "One moment!
Avaunt thee, Satan!" And Joyeuse, making the sign of the cross with one hand, as if he were exorcising her, with the other tore aside the veil which covered the face of the hospitalière; the latter, silent and impassible, free from anger or ill-feeling, fixed her sweet and gentle gaze upon him who had so cruelly outraged her, and said: "Oh!
Ses dernieres annees s'ecoulerent ainsi entre cette residence et la maison bien connue de Rutland Gate, ou sa table hospitaliere etait toujours ouverte a ses amis de France ou d'ailleurs. C'est a Foxholes que la mort est venue le chercher. 'Je n'ai pas la preention de prononcer devant vous l'eloge d'Henry Reeve; la competence me manque comme la preparation.
"No, no, this woman has not spoken falsely; she is now an Hospitaliere. Do not let us speak any further of her, but rather let us respect those who throw themselves at the feet of Heaven." Anne had sufficient power over himself not to show the delight this revelation gave him. He continued: "This is something new, for you have never spoken to me about it."
The general situation was summed up finally in a serio-comic manner in a song which, if it then brought down the house, afterward drew severe criticism upon the thoughtless heads of author and performers: Oui, cette terre Hospitaliere Un jour sera, c'est moi qui vous le dis, Pour tout le monde L'arche feconde Des gens de coeur et des colons hardis. Que faut-il donc pour cesser nos alarmes?
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