She endeavored to make it clear that only chance was responsible for bringing them together here, but Sulpice doubted, he was uneasy and angry.

He felt almost determined to declare, if it were only by a word, the prize of possession, the conquest of this woman, whom he felt that Rosas was about to contend with him for.

She surmised everything and interrupted Sulpice even before he could have spoken and, with a sort of false respect, displayed before Rosas the friendship which Monsieur le Ministre desired to show her and of which she was proud.

“By the way, my dear minister, as to your appointment as President of the Council?”

Vaudrey knit his brows.

“That is so!  I ask your pardon.  I am betraying a state secret.  Monsieur de Rosas will not abuse it.  Isn’t that so, Monsieur le Duc?”

Rosas bowed; Vaudrey was growing impatient.

“Madame Vaudrey will, of course, be delighted at this appointment, Monsieur le Ministre?” continued Marianne.

She smiled at Sulpice who was greatly astonished to hear Adrienne’s name mentioned there; then, turning to Rosas, she charmingly depicted a quasi-idyllic sketch of the affection of Monsieur le Ministre for Madame Vaudrey.  A model household.  There was nothing surprising in that, moreover.  “Monsieur le Ministre” was so amiable—­yes, truly amiable, without any flattery,—­and Madame Vaudrey so charming!

Sulpice, who was very nervous and had become slightly pale, endeavored to discover the meaning of this riddle.  He asked himself what Marianne was thinking about, what she meant to say or dissimulate.

Monsieur de Rosas sat motionless on his chair, very cool, looking calmly on without speaking a word.

He seemed to await an opportunity to leave the studio, and since Vaudrey had arrived he had only spoken a few brief phrases in strict propriety.

Marianne, all smiles and happy, with beaming eyes, interrogated Vaudrey and sought to provide a subject of conversation for the unexpected interview of these two men.  Was there a great crowd at Collard’s funeral?  Who had sung at the ceremony?  Vaudrey answered these questions rapidly, like a man absorbed in other thoughts.

After a moment’s interval, Monsieur de Rosas arose and bowed to Marianne with gentlemanly formality.

“Are you going, my dear duke?”

“Yes, I have seen you again.  You are getting along well.  I am satisfied.”

“You will come again, at any rate?  My uncle has some new compositions to show you.”

“Oh! great ideas,” began Kayser.  “Things that will make famous frescoes!—­For a palace—­or the Pantheon!—­either one!”

He had looked alternately at the duke and Vaudrey.

Rosas bowed to the minister and withdrew without replying, followed by Kayser and Marianne who, on reaching the threshold of the salon, seized his hand and pressed it nervously within her own soft one and said quickly: