As he had seen Milady on board a vessel at the moment he was leaving England, he suspected that it was, almost without a doubt, on account of the diamond studs.
But what was clearest in all this was that the true hatred, the profound hatred, the inveterate hatred of Milady, was increased by his not having killed her brother-in-law.
D'Artagnan came the next day to Milady's, and finding her in a very ill-humor, had no doubt that it was lack of an answer from M.de Wardes that provoked her thus.

Kitty came in, but Milady was very cross with her.

The poor girl ventured a glance at d'Artagnan which said, "See how I suffer on your account!" Toward the end of the evening, however, the beautiful lioness became milder; she smilingly listened to the soft speeches of d'Artagnan, and even gave him her hand to kiss.
D'Artagnan departed, scarcely knowing what to think, but as he was a youth who did not easily lose his head, while continuing to pay his court to Milady, he had framed a little plan in his mind.
He found Kitty at the gate, and, as on the preceding evening, went up to her chamber.

Kitty had been accused of negligence and severely scolded.
Milady could not at all comprehend the silence of the Comte de Wardes, and she ordered Kitty to come at nine o'clock in the morning to take a third letter.
D'Artagnan made Kitty promise to bring him that letter on the following morning.

The poor girl promised all her lover desired; she was mad.
Things passed as on the night before.