"The duke is not to blame," she replied, gently; "he offered us a very
considerable sum, this morning, through his son."

Mlle. Blanche started as if a viper had stung her.

"So you have seen the marquis, Marie-Anne?"

"Yes."

"Has he been to your house?"

"He was going there, when he met me in the grove on the waste."

She blushed as she spoke; she turned crimson at the thought of Martial's
impertinent gallantry.

This girl who had just emerged from a convent was terribly experienced;
but she misunderstood the cause of Marie-Anne's confusion. She could
dissimulate, however, and when Marie-Anne went away, Mlle. Blanche
embraced her with every sign of the most ardent affection. But she was
almost suffocated with rage.

"What!" she thought; "they have met but once, and yet they are so
strongly impressed with each other. Do they love each other already?"



CHAPTER XIV

If Martial had faithfully reported to Mlle. Blanche all that he heard in