LITMIR.BIZ

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trying to correct him again and accidentally tore him up. The beads and precious stones sewn to it came off and rolled down into the grass like a hail.

      Oh damn it! She swore inwardly.

      She didn’t have the funds for new gems right now. Therefore, looking around like a thief and not noticing anyone nearby, she sank down to the grass, crouching down. And-oh-horror! She took off her glove and began to look for precious stones in the grass, collecting them. Hoping to later give them back to the seamstress, carried away by this occupation. Suddenly I heard a voice behind my back. The voice belonged to a man.

      Have you lost something, madam? He asked.

      She froze in horror.

      Oh my god! She was scared.

      She climbs with her hand in the grass, and there is no glove on her hand!

      It was all the height of indecency!

      Unworthy behavior of a lady of her position!

      And now they’ll definitely call her a redneck!

      And the vile de Tamp will write another vile pamphlet. This is undoubtedly! Diana thought about all this, frightened. She slowly and not boldly turned her head to the voice, remaining to sit over the flower bed. And she saw a handsome young man towering over her. He was a little dark and dark-haired. He looked at her with attentive eyes, black as night. He was dressed relatively simply, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this young man came with someone’s retinue. Accompany some noble and wealthy courtier. So with de Tamp, he may not know. He smiled sweetly at her when he saw her frightened and confused look. She answered him awkwardly with an embarrassed smile.

      He repeated the question.

      Madam, have you lost something?

      Oh, she replied, naively.

      Pebbles fell off my headdress.

      I tugged at it awkwardly and they fell into the grass. She finished naively, smiling wider at him.

      Can I help you? He simply answered. And without waiting for her answer, he sat down next to her, began to diligently collect pebbles, swarming in the grass.

      Seems like everything. He said, handing her all the pebbles he had collected.

      She held out her little dirt-stained pen. Businesslike before this, brushing off his soiled hand on his other hand. He silently watched her actions. Seeing this, his eyebrows went up slowly. She smiled at him even wider and took the pebbles, busily putting them in a bag and putting on gloves, as if nothing had happened.

      Oh! Thank God! Poitiers thought. It turned out to be this sweet young man, and not someone else. And nobody will know anything!

      What are you doing here? She began the conversation with a question, so as not to be silly not to be silent.

      I write poetry. Simple, he replied.

      Poems? Poitiers was surprised, looking at the young man with interest and more closely.

      What about you? He answered, question to question.

      I haven’t seen you here before.

      However, I only recently returned, he added.

      You must have appeared in my absence.

      She looked at him with interest.

      So you’ve been at court long enough? Here in Paris? She asked the following question.

      Well, you could say long enough. Smiling, he answered.

      Oh yes, and how do you find it here? She asked.

      He put on a sour expression, smiling. The answer is simple.

      Pretty boring.

      She laughed loudly.

      You’re joking right!

      You’re bored in the funniest place in all of France!

      He gave her a big smile, enjoying her amusement.

      So you write poetry? She continued.

      Yes, he replied. Suddenly becoming serious.

      Would you like to read it to you? He asked suddenly.

      Yes, of course, Poitiers answered with interest.

      He read the verse. It was about a butterfly and a rose. Diana listened intently to him. He finished reading.

      Well, how do you like it? He asked. You like?

      Yes, she answered honestly. You definitely have a good syllable.

      But I think they seem to be missing something. Something I think is important. She added, thoughtfully.

      What then? He asked with interest.

      She continued just as thoughtfully, looking into the distance.

      You see a flower and a butterfly, its gentle flutter. But, you don’t look further, deeper. To the very depth.

      A month will pass and the rose will wither. And this butterfly will also die, its time is short. She spoke, still thoughtfully. Moving your gaze to the beautiful rose. She was silent, for a moment, and as if breathing air with a slight smile, she added.

      But, the next year will come and the rose will be reborn and bloom. And the butterfly will also flutter over the rose. She finished speaking. I looked him straight in the eyes; they were the depth of the ocean. I would say this:

      «Two roses will lie at the foot of the marble.

      Butterflies will fly up to them carelessly.

      Is it too early for us to despair?

      We will be forever»!

      She finished smiling. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with genuine joy. The young man looked at her with his black, pensive eyes and was silent. He was very serious. Finally, he spoke. Slowly not taking his eyes off her.

      Yes, you’re right. I think I understand. Something was really missing.

      She suddenly remembered that she had to go a long time ago. Find the old widow, in whose retinue she was still a member. She completely forgot about her, carried away by a conversation with a young man.

      Forgive me, but I need to leave you. She told him.

      I’ll show you. The young man answered.

      She said she seemed to be lost and could not find the old widow she was a member of. She said the lady’s name and he laughed.

      Ah, this is that old owl-like lady who loves jewelry so much. He said smiling.

      She laughed heartily, amused.

      So you noticed the similarities too. She sang in her beautiful voice, continuing to laugh. And this is exactly what Poitiers called the old widow.

      Yes, he replied, laughing in turn. Getting infected with her laughter and fun.

      I think I saw her. Come, I will take you, if you will, and he gallantly offered her his hand.

      And they walked slowly down the alley, talking about poetry. Diana suddenly saw the hated Mademoiselle de Tamp. Diana stopped and her brows slowly drew together on the bridge of her nose. He also stopped, looking in the direction of Poitiers, that is, at de Tamp. She turned her head and looked at him and suddenly asked.

      Don’t you find this lady very beautiful?

      He looked at her and answered calmly.

      It seems to me that her corset is too tight and she will even faint, so she probably abuses blush so as not to give out the pallor of her face.

      There is nothing interesting in this lady for me. He replied, looking at Diana smiling.

      I think the fairest lady of all the fairest is standing next to me right now. He smiled at her again.

      She looked at him suspiciously. Trying to look into his very soul, into his eyes black as night, suspecting him of flattery.

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