"I am not telling you anything new," he added to Albert when they were
alone. "You know as well as I do that the Duke is in love with
Esperance. We all know it here."
Albert agreed with a rather sad smile that he did know it.
"Now that my cousin is your fiancee, he is too much of a gentleman to
seek her, but he certainly wants to be near her, to talk to her, in
short to flirt with her."
"You believe that he would dare?"
"My dear cousin," said Maurice, half jestingly, half serious. "I
believe him capable of anything, but he knows that you are here ... and
perhaps is afraid to take liberties."
"To put an end to his manoeuvrings we must somehow make him look
ridiculous, and expose his folly. The fete, I think, will give us our
chance."
Albert said, "I will follow your advice, Maurice."
"Very good. I will give you particulars of my plans. By the way, I
have brought all your invitations. I will go and deliver them." So
they went to seek the others, and Maurice gave each one a card with a
personal invitation for the twentieth of September. Genevieve blushed.
"I am invited as well," she said.
"Of course; and I believe the amiable Duchess intends to ask you to
recite the poem she has written. It is very touching. I will find it
for you to-morrow. Ah! yes, you have made a great impression on that
delightful lady. She talked about you to me all the time. You would
have supposed she was doing it to please me.
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