"I will willingly tell you all I know, my Lady. I have seen her
once; none of the servants are supposed to know she is in the
Chateau, but of course all do." Fanchon stood with her two hands in
the pockets of her apron, as ready to talk as the pretty grisette
who directed Lawrence Sterne to the Opera Comique.
"Of course!" remarked Angelique, "a secret like that could never be
kept in the Chateau of Beaumanoir! Now tell me, Fanchon, what is
she like?" Angelique sat up eagerly and brushed back the hair from
her ear with a rapid stroke of her hand as she questioned the girl.
There was a look in her eyes that made Fanchon a little afraid, and
brought out more truth than she intended to impart.
"I saw her this morning, my Lady, as she knelt in her oratory: the
half-open door tempted me to look, in spite of the orders of Dame
Tremblay."
"Ah! you saw her this morning!" repeated Angelique impetuously; "how
does she appear? Is she better in looks than when she first came to
the Chateau, or worse? She ought to be worse, much worse!"
"I do not know, my Lady, but, as I said, I looked in the door,
although forbid to do so.
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