Page:Cerise, a tale of the last century (IA cerisetaleoflast00whytrich).pdf/144

 What will a woman not do when her heart is interested? Well, monsieur, have you ever spoken since to the beautiful Marquise, as you call her, doubtless in ridicule?"

He began to think he had been somewhat remiss, and that to prosecute his intimacy with the mother would have been the easiest way of obtaining access to the daughter. He was not given to self-examination, and did not perceive that his very love for Cerise had prevented him yet entering the house. "Do you know the Marquise de Montmirail?" was all he could find at the moment to say.

"A little!" answered the mask, nodding her head. "But I have an intimate friend who is very intimate with her indeed. You think women cannot be friends, monsieur; you think they have no hearts; you little know the lady of whom we speak. You see her as the world does, and you judge her accordingly. How blind men are! If your eyes are not dazzled by self-conceit, they are bandaged by an impenetrable and cold egotism. A thing must touch your very noses, close like that," and she thrust her pretty hand up within an inch of his face, "or you will not believe in its existence. Nevertheless, I could sometimes find it in my heart to envy you your callousness, your stupidity, your indifference, and to wish that I had been born a man."

I think at the moment he almost wished it too, for although the voice was very fascinating, and the situation not without its charm, she encumbered him sadly in his search for the young lady whom yet he did not the least expect to find.

The Marquise, however, was quite satisfied with her position, and disposed to improve the occasion.

"A woman can have no friends," she proceeded, speaking in a low tone that the music rendered inaudible to all but her companion. "How I wish she could! I know the sort of one I should choose—brave, steadfast, constant, self-controlled; a gallant soldier, a loyal gentleman; above all, a man uninfluenced by every eye that flashes, every lip that smiles. And yet—and yet," she added, while her soft voice sank to a whisper as the music rose and swelled, "such an one would soon cease to be a friend. Because—because"

"Because why?" he asked, bending tenderly over her,