‘Father, there is a better way!  Give him my hand.’

’Eh quoi, child; if thou art tired of devotion, there are a thousand better marriages.’

’No, father, none so good for this family.  See, I bring him all—­ all that I was sold for.  As the price of that, he resigns for ever all his claims to the ancestral castle—­to La Leurre, and above all, that claim to Nid de Merle as Eustacie’s widower, which, should he ever discover the original contract, will lead to endless warfare.’

’His marriage with Eustacie was annulled.  Yet—­yet there might be doubts.  There was the protest; and who knows whether they formally renewed their vows when so much went wrong at Montpipeau.  Child, it is a horrible perplexity.  I often could wish we had had no warning, and the poor things had made off together.  We could have cried shame till we forced out a provision for thy brother; and my poor little Eustacie—–­’ He had tears in his eyes as he broke off.

Diane made an impatient gesture.  ’She would have died of tedium in England, or broken forth so as to have a true scandal.  That is all over, father, now; weigh my proposal!  Nothing else will save my brother from all that his cruel hand merits!  You will win infinite credit at court.  The King loved him more than you thought safe.’

’The King has not a year to live, child, and he has personally offended the King of Poland.  Besides, this youth is heretic.’

’Only by education.  Have I not heard you say that he had by an abjuration.  And as to Monsieur’s enmity, if it be not forgotten, the glory of bringing about a conversion would end that at once.’

’Then, daughter, thou shouldst not have let him bury himself among the English.’

’It was unavoidable, father, and perhaps if he were here he would live in an untamable state of distrust, whereas we may now win him gradually.  You will go and see him to-morrow, my dear father.’

‘I must have time to think of this thy sudden device.’

’Nay, he is in no condition to hear of it at present.  I did but speak now, that you might not regard it as sudden when the fit moment comes.  It is the fixed purpose of my mind.  I am no girl now, and I could act for myself if I would; but as it is for your interest and that of my brother thus to dispose of me, it is better that you should act for me.’

‘Child, headstrong child, thou wilt make no scandal,’ said the Chevalier, looking up at his daughter’s handsome head drawn up proudly with determination.

‘Certainly not, sir, if you will act for me.’  And Diane sailed away in her sweeping folds of black brocade.

In a few moments more she was kneeling with hands locked together before a much-gilded little waxem figure of St. Eustacie with his cross-bearing stag by his side, which stood in a curtained recess in the alcove where her stately bed was placed.