The duke did, indeed, very wrong to send you." "It is precisely," replied Mary Grafton, in a clear, calm voice, "because your society does not annoy me, that the duke was wrong to send me to you." It was now Raoul's turn to blush.

"But," he resumed, "how happens it that the Duke of Buckingham should send you to me; and why did you come?
the duke loves you, and you love him." "No," replied Mary, seriously, "the duke does not love me, because he is in love with the Duchesse d'Orleans; and, as for myself, I have no affection for the duke." Raoul looked at the young lady with astonishment.
"Are you a friend of the Duke of Buckingham ?" she inquired.
"The duke has honored me by calling me so ever since we met in France." "You are simple acquaintances, then ?" "No; for the duke is the most intimate friend of one whom I regard as a brother." "The Duc de Guiche ?" "Yes." "He who is in love with Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans ?" "Oh! What is that you are saying ?" "And who loves him in return," continued the young girl, quietly.
Raoul bent down his head, and Mary Grafton, sighing deeply, continued, "They are very happy.

But, leave me, Monsieur de Bragelonne, for the Duke of Buckingham has given you a very troublesome commission in offering me as a companion for your promenade.

Your heart is elsewhere, and it is with the greatest difficulty you can be charitable enough to lend me your attention.

Confess truly; it would be unfair on your part, vicomte, not to admit it." "Madame, I do confess it." She looked at him steadily.