A Death Warrant or a Marriage Contract

"Well, Gabrielle," said Anne, curiously, "what do you propose to do?"

Madame went to the window; madame stared far below the balcony at the
broad river which lay smooth and white in the morning sunshine; madame
drummed on the window-casing.

"It is a mare's nest," she replied, finally.

"First of all, there is D'Hérouville. True, he is in the hospital,"
observed Anne, "but he will shortly become an element."

Madame shrugged.

"There's the vicomte, for another."

Madame spread the most charming pair of hands.

"And the poet," Anne continued.

Madame tucked away a rebel curl above her ear.

"And last, but not least, there's the Chevalier du Cévennes. The
governor was very kind to permit you to remain incognito."

Madame's face became animated. "What an embarrassing thing it is to be
so plentifully and frequently loved!"

"If only you loved some one of these noble gentlemen!"

"D'Hérouville, a swashbuckler; D'Halluys, a gamester; Du Cévennes, a
fop. Truly, you can not wish me so unfortunate as that?"

"Besides, Monsieur du Cévennes does not know nor love you."

"I suppose not. How droll it would be if I should set about making him
fall in love with me!--to bring him to my feet and tell him who I
am--and laugh!"

"I should advise you not to try it, Gabrielle. He might become
formidable. Are you not mischief endowed with a woman's form?"

"A mare's nest it is, truly; but since I have entered it
willingly . . ."