My wife's confession, under such circumstances,
would have but a simple air, and believed by some would be
ridiculed by more. It might, and probably would, save my credit
with the King; but it would not exalt me in others' eyes, or
increase my reputation as a manager. If there were any other
way--and so reflecting, I thought of La Trape and his story.
Still I was half way to the door when I paused, and turned. My
wife was still weeping. "It is no good crying over spilled milk,
Madame," I said severely. "If the girl were not a fool, she
would have gone to the Ursulines. The abbess has a stiff neck,
and is as big a simpleton to boot as you are. It is only a step,
too, from here to the Ursulines, if she had had the sense to go
on."
My wife lifted her head, and looked at me eagerly; but I avoided
her gaze and went out without more, and downstairs to my study,
where I found La Trape awaiting me. "Go to Madame la Duchesse,"
I said to him. "When you have done what she needs, come to me in
my closet."
He obeyed, and after an interval of about half an hour, during
which I had time to mature my plan, presented himself again
before me.
Pages:
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281