“Oh, good Lord, Monsieur Chevalier,” said she, “what are you doing?”
“I?” said d’Artagnan; “nothing,” and he read,
“You have not answered my first note. Are you indisposed, or have you forgotten the glances you favored me with at the ball of Madame de Guise? You have an opportunity now, Count; do not allow it to escape.”
D’Artagnan became very pale; he was wounded in his self -love: he thought that it was in his love .
“Poor dear M. d’Artagnan,” said Kitty, in a voice full of compassion, and pressing anew the young man’s hand.
“You pity me, little one?” said d’Artagnan.
“Oh, yes, and with all my heart; for I know what it is to be in love.”
“You know what it is to be in love?” said d’Artagnan, looking at her for the first time with much attention.
“Alas, yes.”
“Well, then, instead of pitying me, you would do much better to assist me in avenging myself on your mistress.”
“And what sort of revenge would you take?”
“I would triumph over her, and supplant my rival.”
“I will never help you in that, Monsieur Chevalier,” said Kitty, warmly.
“And why not?” demanded d’Artagnan.