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Now the fiacre clattered before the Hotel de Puysange. The door was opened by a dull-eyed lackey, whom de Puysange greeted with a smile, "Bon jour, Antoine!" cried the Duke; "I trust that your wife and doubtless very charming children have good health?" "Beyond question, monseigneur," the man answered, stolidly.
He had often wondered what had become of this large brown woman; had wondered if he were really the first man for whom she had put a deceit upon her husband; and had wondered what sort of person Madame Felise de Puysange had been in reality. "Two months it was that we played at intimacy, was it not, Felise? You comprehend, my dear, I really remember very little about you.
"O my husband, my husband!" she interrupted, with a shrug of the shoulders; "why, you do it so badly!" The Duc de Puysange took a short turn about the apartment. "Yet I married you," said he, "at sixteen out of a convent!" "Mon ami," she murmured, in apology, "am I not to be frank with you? Would you have only the connubial confidences?" "But I had no idea " he began.
The little Marquis sat beside the Duchesse de Puysange, to the rear of a long table with a crimson cover. Their attitudes smacked vaguely of the judicial, and before them stood, guarded by four attendants, a ragged and dissolute looking fellow whom the Marquis was languidly considering.
Melite sat before the mirror, and braided her hair, and sang to herself in a sweet, low voice, brooding with unfathomable eyes upon her image in the glass, while the October rain beat about Puysange, and Adhelmar rode forth to save Hugues that must else be hanged.
Eheu! there is a certain proverb concerning pitch so cynical that I suspect it of being truthful. However, we shall see." De Puysange smiled. "The most beautiful woman in all Paris? Ah, yes, she is quite that, is this grave silent female whose eyes are more fathomless and cold than oceans! And how cordially she despises me!
"'Beautiful as an angel, and headstrong as a devil. And what's her name? Oh, yes, Claire. That is a very silly name, and I suppose she is a vixenish little idiot. However, the alliance is a sensible one. De Puysange has had it in mind for some six months, I think, but certainly I did not think he knew of my affair with Marian. Well, but he affects omniscience, he delights in every small chicane.
Reinault informed his sister of his decision; she wept a little, but did not refuse to comply. So Adhelmar, come again to Puysange after five years' absence, found Melite troth-plighted, fast and safe, to Hugues. Reinault told him. Adhelmar grumbled and bit his nails in a corner, for a time; then laughed shortly. "I have loved Melite," he said. "It may be that I love her still.
Melite smiled as she sang; for this was a song that Adhelmar had made for her upon a May morning at Nointel, before he was a knight, when both were very young. So now she smiled to remember the making of the verses which she sang while the October rain was beating about Puysange. Night-work
It is with them we have here to do. The Episode Called The Conspiracy of Arnaye Policy Tempered with Singing "And so," said the Sieur d'Arnaye, as he laid down the letter, "we may look for the coming of Monsieur de Puysange to-morrow." The Demoiselle Matthiette contorted her features in an expression of disapproval. "So soon!" said she. "I had thought "
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