When Jeanne returned to her pretty little house in the faubourg, it was still early; so she took a pen and wrote a few rapid lines, enclosed them in a perfumed envelope, and rang the bell. “Take this letter to Monseigneur the Cardinal1 de Rohan,” said she.
In five minutes the man returned.
“Well,” said Madame de la Motte, impatiently, “why are you not gone?”
“Just as I left the house, madame, his eminence2 came to the door. I told him I was about to go to his hotel with a letter from you; he read it, and is now waiting to come in.”
“Let him enter,” said the countess.
Jeanne had been thinking all the way home of the beautiful necklace, and wishing it was hers. It would be a fortune in itself.
The cardinal entered. He also was full of desires and ambitions, which he wished to hide under the mask of love.
“Ah, dear Jeanne,” said he, “you have really become so necessary to me that I have been gloomy all day knowing you to be so far off. But you have returned from Versailles?”
“As you see, monseigneur.”
“And content?”
“Enchanted.”
“The queen received you, then?”
“I was introduced immediately on my arrival.”
“You were fortunate. I suppose, from your triumphant3 air, that she spoke4 to you.”
“I passed three hours in her majesty’s cabinet.”
“Three hours! You are really an enchantress whom no one can resist. But perhaps you exaggerate. Three hours!” he repeated; “how many things a clever woman like you might say in three hours!”
“Oh, I assure you, monseigneur, that I did not waste my time.”
“I dare say that in the whole three hours you did not once think of me.”
“Ungrateful man!”
“Really!” cried the cardinal.
“I did more than think of you; I spoke of you.”
“Spoke of me! to who............