taking siestas and saying litanies, the seneschal’s wife felt growing within her that treasure for which she had so often and so ardently sighed; but now she liked more the commencement than the fructifying of it.
You may be sure that Rene knew how to read, not only in books, but in the eyes of his sweet lady, for whom he would have leaped into a flaming pile, had it been her wish he should do so. When well and amply, more than a hundred times, the train had been laid by them, the little lady became anxious about her soul and the future of her friend the page. Now one rainy day, as they were playing at touch-tag, like two children, innocent from head to foot, Blanche, who was always caught, said to him—
“Come here, Rene; do you know that while I have only committed venial sins because I was asleep, you have committed mortal ones?”
“Ah, Madame!” said he, “where then will God stow away all the damned if that is to sin!”
Blanche burst out laughing, and kissed his forehead.
“Be quiet, you naughty boy; it is a question of paradise, and we must live there together if you wish always to be with me.”
“Oh, my paradise is here.”
“Leave off,” said she. “You are a little wretch—a scapegrace who does not think of that which I love—yourself! You do not know that I am with child, and that in a little while I shall be no more able to conceal it than my nose. Now, what will the abbot say? What will my lord say? He will kill you if he puts himself in a passion. My advice is little one, that you go to the abbot of Marmoustiers, confess your sins to him, asking him to see what had better be done concerning my seneschal.
“Alas,” said the artful page, “if I tell the secret of our joys, he will put his interdict upon our love.”
“Very likely,” said she; “but thy happiness in the other world is a thing so precious to me.”
“Do you wish it my darling?”
“Yes,” replied she rather faintly.
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