Now we have introduced the principal characters of this history to our readers, and have taken them both into the “petite maison” of the Comte d'Artois and into the king's palace at Versailles, we will return to that house in the Rue St. Claude where we saw the queen enter incognito with Mademoiselle Andree de Taverney.
We left Madame de la Motte counting over and delighted with her fifty double louis; next to the pleasure of having them, she knew no greater than that of displaying them, and having no one else, she called Dame Clotilde, who was still in the antechamber.
When she entered. “Come and look here!” said her mistress.
“Oh, madame!” cried the old woman, clasping her hands in astonishment.
“You were uneasy about your wages,” said the countess.
“Oh, madame! I never said that: I only asked madame if she could pay me, as I had received nothing for three months.”
“Do you think there is enough there to pay you?”
“Oh! madame, if I had all that, I should be rich for the rest of my life. But in what will madame spend all that?”
“The first thing, I think, madame, will be to furnish the kitchen, for you will have good dinners cooked now.”
“Listen!” said Madame de la Motte: “some one knocks.”
“I did not hear it,” said the old woman.
“I tell you that I did: so go at once.” She hastily gathered up her money, and put it into a drawer, murmuring, “Oh! if Providence will but send me another such a visitor.” Then she heard the steps of a man below, but could not distinguish what tie said. Soon, however, the door opened, and Clotilde came in with a letter.
The countess examined it attentively, and asked, “Was this brought by a servant?”
“I know these arms, surely,” said Jeanne to herself. “Who can it be from? but the letter will soon show for itself: and opening it she read: “Madame, the person to whom you wrote will see you tomorrow evening, if it be agreeable to you to remain at home for that purpose;" and that was all. “I have, written to so many people,” thought the countess. “Is this a man or a woman? The writing is no guide, nor is the style; it might come from either. Who is it that uses these arms? Oh! I remember now—the arms of the Rohans. Yes, I wrote to M. de Guemenee, and to M. de Rohan; it is one of them: but the shield is not quartered—it is therefore the cardinal. Ah! Monsieur de Rohan, the man of gallantry, the fine gentleman, and the ambitious one; he will come to see Jeanne de la Motte, if it be agreeable to her. Oh, yes! M. de Rohan, it is very agreeable. A charitable lady who gives a hundred louis may be received in a garret, freeze in my cold room, and suffer on my hard chairs: but a clerical prince, a lady's man, that is quite another thing. We must have luxury to give him.”
Then turning to Clotilde, who was getting her bed ready, she said: “Be sure to call me early to-morrow morning;” and when she did retire to rest, so absorbed was she in her expectations and plans, that it was nearly three o'clock before she fell asleep; nevertheless, she was quite ready when Dame Clotilde called her, according to her directions, early in the morning, and had finished her toilet by eight o'clock, although this day it consisted of an elegant silk dress, and her hair was elaborately dressed.
She sent Clotilde for a coach, and ordered the man to drive to the Place Royale, where, under one of the arcades, was the shop of M. Fingret, an upholsterer and decorator, and who had furniture always ready for sale or hire.
She entered his immense show-rooms, of which the walls were hung with different tapestries, and the ceiling completely hidden by the number of chandeliers and lamps that hung from it. On the ground were furniture, carpets, and cornices of every fashion and description.
