Adventures of Susan Hopley/Volume 1/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X.
THE DUKE AND THE DAIRYMAID.
On a certain evening, nearly about the period that the conversation detailed in our last Chapter took place in the dressing-room of Don Querubin, in the Château de la Rosa, the unwieldy diligence from Harfleur, entering by the Barrière de Neuilly, rolled into the city of Paris, containing in the interior of its massive body its full complement of six goodly souls; and in the coupé, two, a lady and gentleman bearing in air and aspect the most unequivocal symptoms of a recent importation across the channel. The lady was very young, exceedingly handsome, and neatly attired in the costume of her own country; and though without any appearance of fashion or of artificial polish, there was an air of simple and natural grace about her person and demeanour that left no room for regret, that art had done little where nature had done so much.#
The gentleman was many years older, perhaps about forty, with a countenance that yet showed some remains of beauty, and that appeared to have suffered more from dissipation and bad company, than from time. Its expression was so mixed as to be almost undefinable. There were some traces still surviving of good nature, and of a disposition to enjoy and be happy, that occasionally struggled through and illuminated the dark and complicated mask that puzzled the beholder; but then such a heavy cloud would suddenly fall and obscure these gleams of light, that the spectator felt as if a black crape veil had been unexpectedly interposed betwixt him and the object of his contemplation.
The prevailing expression, however, the one most frequently pervading both the countenance and manner, was that of extreme recklessness, mingled with a considerable degree of intrepidity. With respect to the costume, and general air and carriage of the person in question, it partook, in about equal degrees, of that of the horse jockey, prize fighter, and gentleman.
The evening was dark and excessively wet; and Paris, noisy, dirty and ill lighted, as it then was, did not present a very alluring aspect.
"Is this Bourdeaux?" inquired the lady of her companion, as they drew up at the Barrière to deliver their passports.
"Not exactly," replied he; "we shall be there by and by. But I propose remaining here tonight, and perhaps for a few days to recruit, if you have no objection."
"Not any," answered she; "I shall be very glad of a little rest, for I am very tired, and my head aches dreadfully with jolting over those stony roads."
"Allons, messieurs et mesdames!" cried the conducteur, when he had safely lodged the cumbrous vehicle in the court of the Bureau des Diligences, in the Rue Nôtre Dame des Victoires; "Allons! We are at the end of our journey. Have the goodness to get down. Permettez moi de vous assister," added he, taking the fair traveller round her slender waist, and placing her on the ground.
"We want a lodging," said the gentleman, in indifferent French, and addressing himself to one of the clerks. "Is there any thing to be got near here?"
"J'ai un apartment superbe et (illegible text) Monsieur" said a respectable looking man, (illegible text) with his hat (illegible text)to the ground. "Allow me the honour of showing you the way; it's not ten minutes walk from here" And the luggage being (illegible text) to a (illegible text), the party immediately moved off, and were (illegible text) by the stranger to a respective looking house in the RUe des P(illegible text) E(illegible text); where after ascending a considerable number of dirty (illegible text) stairs they found themselves in a very tolerable suite of apartments, decorated with faded yellow damask, and a due proportion of cracked mirrors, tarnished giding, and marble slabs; and when the stove was heated, the girandoles lighted, and a good supper from the kitchen of a neighbouring traiteur was placed upon the table, accompanied by a bottle of Vin de Bourdeaux, the travellers began to find themselves tolerably comfortable and disposed to conversation.
"You've heard of Paris, I dare say?" said the gentleman.
"Yes," replied the lady. "It's in France, isn't it?"
"Precisely," returned he. "The chief city, as London is of England; only much gayer and more agreeable."
"It may easily be that," replied she; "at least, for all I saw of London."
"That was not much, certainly," answered the gentleman, smiling. "But you'll see Paris under different circumstances."
"Is it on our road?" said she.
"Why, to say the truth," returned he, "it did not make much difference, and I thought it a pity to lose the opportunity, so here we are!"
"In Paris?" said she.
"In Paris," returned he; "where I think we may kill a little time pleasantly enough. You must not judge by what you've seen yet," added he, observing that the impression made by the dirty streets and dim lights was not altogether favourable. "You'll see things under a different aspect to-morrow. Besides, we are not in the fashionable quarter, exactly."
"I should like to live in the fashionable quarter," observed the lady, "if we are to make any stay."
"By all means," replied the gentleman. "It's precisely what I intend. There is no place in the world where beauty sooner attracts notice than in Paris, especially foreign beauty. It has only to be seen in public places—the Thuilleries for example."
"What sort of a place is that?" inquired the lady.
"It's the garden of the royal palace—the king's palace."
"Does he live there?" said she.
"He does usually," answered her companion.
"I should like to go there very much," responded the lady.
"I thought so," replied her companion. "Of course it's the resort of the court, and myriads of gay cavaliers, young, handsome and rich are to be met with. I think it will be time enough to go to the Château de la Rosa when we have shown ourselves here a little. What say you?"
"I should like to go to the Thuilleries, by all means," returned the lady; "but I don't intend to give up being a marchioness."
"Certainly not, unless you gave it up for something better," replied the gentleman. "But there are more marquises in the world than Don Querubin who have an eye for beauty; young, handsome, and rich ones into the bargain; not to mention counts, dukes, and princes, all as plenty as blackberries here. At all events you can give it a trial. A little delay can do no harm; and we can go forward if we find things here don't answer our expectations. To-morrow, if you like, we'll move into a more fashionable quarter; and by the by, we must think of how we'll call ourselves. We're in the passport as Mr. and Miss Jones—Colonel Jones would sound better, and be more likely to get us on."
"Why not Lord Jones?" said the lady.
"I'm afraid that won't do," returned he. "Lords are too well known. But there are fifty Colonel Jones's, and I may be one of them for any thing the people here will know to the contrary."
"I don't like the name of Jones, at all," replied the lady. "I like names of three syllables, at least; and I like two or three names. There were some people in our county that had two or three names, and they were always thought more of than others on that account."
"But we'd better stick to Jones," returned the gentleman, "for fear of accidents, as it's in the passport."
"But we can add some more names to it," said the lady. "In our county there were the families of the Arlingtons, and the Darlingtons. I think Arlington Darlington Jones would sound very well."
"It's coming it rather strong," said the gentleman.
"I like it," said she.
"Then, Arlington Darlington Jones, let it be. We'll get some cards to-morrow, the first thing we do."
On the following morning after breakfast, Colonel and Miss Arlington Darlington Jones sallied forth in quest of fashionable lodgings, and at the Hotel Marbeuf, in the Rue St. Honoré, they found a suite of apartments likely to answer their purpose. On the first floor, large, lofty, and elegantly furnished, they appeared to the fair Englishwoman, every thing that was desirable.
"I think they'll answer extremely well," said the Colonel to the showily dressed lady who condescended to treat with him on the subject. "We'll order our luggage to be sent, and sleep here to night."
"Pardon!" said the proprietaire, "but perhaps Monsieur would have the goodness to favour me with a referencc—it's extremely unpleasant, but we are obliged to be cautious."
"Oh, by all means," replied the Colonel, with the most dégagée manner imaginable. "You are very right, very right indeed. Here is my card—Colonel Jones, Arlington Darlington Jones, you observe. You've only to send to the British Ambassador's, they'll reongnise the name immediately. There are few better known in England, I flatter myself than Jones."
"J'en suis persuadée," responded Madame Coulin, with a deferential curtsey and a winning smile, dazzled by the éclat of the reference. "On reconnait aisément les personnes distinguées."
"As I am assured your inquiries will be answered satisfactorily," pursued the Colonel, "I shall desire the luggage to be sent immediately. In the mean time as we want to make a few purchases, you can perhaps favour us with the address of a marchande de modes, a tailor, and so forth?"
"Assurément," replied Madame Coulin. "Violà ce bon Monsieur Truchet, vis à vis, homme respectable; et par parenthèse, mon cousin; artiste de la première force. Et puis pour une marchande de modes, ah! c'est Madame Doricourt, ma soeur, que je vous recommanderai. Elle tient un des premiers magazins de Paris; tenez, voila son addresse, Rue de Richelieu, numero 7. Ah! c'est elle qui a du talent. Je me flatte que Madame se trouvera éminement satisfaite."
"I don't doubt it," responded the Colonel; "and every thing being arranged I believe we may take our leave for the present. You'll have the goodness to receive our luggage; and we shall ourselves return in the course of the day. Bon jour, Madame!"
"Au plaisir, Monsieur!" said the lady, as she curtsied them out of the saloon. "Vous aurez la bonté de vous rappeler l'addresse de ma sœur; et ce digne Mr. Truchet, qui demeure justement vis à vis?"
"Certainly," said Colonel Jones. "They may rely on our custom; the being connexions of your's is quite a sufficient recommendation; and we shall not fail to make use of your name."
"Dieu!" said she, as she looked over the gilt balustrade, and followed them with her eyes down the stairs, "Dieu; ces Anglois!' Never to ask the rent! Mais c'est qu'ils sont si riches. I'd made up my mind to take six hundred livres—but eight won't be a sous too much. Indeed, the apartments are cheap at eight; and eight it shall be. Sans doute, cela lui sera égal-it will be just the same to him—" a conclusion, in which Colonel Jones, had he been appealed to on the subject, would have perfectly coincided.
The next visit of our travellers was to the gate of the British Ambassador's Hotel, where having inquired if his Lordship was at home, and being of course answered in the negative, the Colonel threw down his card, begging it might be delivered to him without fail; so that when presently afterwards Madame Coulin arrived to make her perquisitions, the porter was prepared to say that he believed the gentleman was an acquaintance of his excellency, as he had just been there to make a visit.
The assistance of the worthy cousin Monsieur Truchet, and of the sister, Madame Doricourt, were next put in requisition; and the Colonel suggested to his fair companion the propriety of not exhibiting themselves in the more fashionable resorts till their appearance was improved by the result of these admirable artists' taste and science. They accordingly confined themselves to the obscurer parts of the city, taking their dinner at an inferior restaurateur's; after which the Colonel conducted Miss Jones to the Hotel of Madame Coulin, who received them with the most flattering empressement; and then proceeded to finish his own evening at a Maison de jeu in the Palais Royal.
On the second day, being duly equipped, they repaired at the accustomed hour of promenade to the Thuilleries, where the transcendant charms of Miss Jones soon attracted such a swarm of admirers, that their way was absolutely impeded by the flutter around them.
"What exquisite beauty!" cried one.
"Who is she?" cried another.
"Does no one know the name of this divine creature?" cried a third.
"I'm sure she's English;" said a fourth.
"She's certainly a foreigner," said a fifth—in short the aristocratic crowd was in commotion.
"What's the matter?" said the Duc de Rochechouart, who at that moment came out of the palace.
"The most incomparable beauty has just appeared," replied the Comte d'Armagnac; "and we cannot make out who she is."
"Where is she?" inquired the Duke.
"There, just before," answered De L'Orme. "The man that accompanies her has the air of a fanfaron."
"Elle sent le province," said Rochechouart, eyeing her figure through his glass.
"C'est vrai qu'elle est sans tournure," answered D'Armagnac. "But her face is divine."
"Voyons," said Rochechouart, calmly, and with the air of a man certain of accomplishing whatever he chose to undertake; and advancing hastily, close behind the Colonel and his fair companion, he contrived slightly to entangle the hilt of his sword in the drapery of Miss Jones's dress.
"Mille pardons!" cried he, taking off his hat in the most irresistible manner in the world; and exhibiting a head that Adonis himself need not have disowned; whilst under pretence of extricating the sword he took care to entangle it still further—"Je suis vraiment desolé."
"Miss Jones does not speak French," replied the Colonel, who easily penetrated the manœuvre; or I am sure she would be happy to accept your apologies."
"You are extremely obliging," returned Rochechouart. "I have the happiness to speak a little English, having been ambassador in your country for a short time; but I did not make myself so much acquainted with the language as I might have done, which I always regret when I have the good fortune to meet any of your charming countrywomen. Jons," said he, "Jons—I am sure I met a family of that name in England."
"Nothing more likely," replied the Colonel. "Our name, if I may be excused for saying so, is pretty well known in most parts of the island."
"And you have very lately arrived in Paris, I presume?" said Rochechouart, "avec Mademoiselle votre fille."
"Miss Jones is my niece," replied the Colonel. "We arrived three days since, and are lodging at the Hotel Marbeuf, Rue St. Honoré."
"Where I hope Mademoiselle will permit me the honour of paying my respects," returned Rochechouart, handing his card to the Colonel.
"We shall be particularly happy," returned the Colonel; and with another elegant salutation, Rochechouart retreated, and joined his companions.
"Eh bien!" cried D'Armagnac, "I'll bet you haven't learnt the name of this divinity."
"Then you'll lose," returned the Duke. "Her name is Jons—she's the niece of the man that accompanies her—she arrived three days since, and she lodges at the Hotel Marboeuf, where to-morrow I shall have the honour of presenting myself."
"Diable!" cried D'Armagnac; "et vous savez tout cela déja!"
"Cospetto!" muttered De L'Orme. "En voilà une autre."
In the meantime the travellers had studied the card with infinite satisfaction.
"A duke!" said Miss Jones. "I never saw a duke before."
"A duke he is, indeed," replied the Colonel; "and one of the first dukes in France, I assure you. Young, handsome, and devilish rich I've no doubt. What think you of him instead of the old Marquis?"
"Perhaps he won't think of me," said Miss Jones.
"I'll answer for that," returned the Colonel. "What is he coming to call on us for? Not to see me you may take your davy."
The Colonel held some debate with himself the next morning whether it would be advisable to await the Duke's visit, or to go out and leave Miss Jones to receive him alone; and after a due calculation of probabilities, he resolved on the latter. Miss Jones was extremely clever indeed for an extempore Miss Jones, and had a natural genius for her part; and though certainly she was singularly ignorant, and the Duke singularly fascinating, he relied on her beauty to charm, and her ambition to preserve.
"Monsieur le Due de Rochechouart," said Grosbois the French servant the Colonel had engaged, as he threw open the door and introduced the noble visitor.
"Je suis enchanté," said the Duke, with the most captivating abord.
Miss Jones rose and dropped him a curtsey.
"And is this the first visit of Mademoiselle to Paris?" said he, seating himself beside her.
"Yes, Sir," replied Miss Jones. "I never was here before."
"I flatter myself you'll be delighted when you see more of it;" said Rochechouart. "C'est un séjour incomparable. You have not been to the Opera, I dare say?"
"I don't think I have," answered Miss Jones. "What sort of place is it?"
"Comment?" exclaimed the Duke. "You have never seen an Opera?"
"I believe not," replied she. "What is it like?"
"C'est inconcevable," said he. "Mademoiselle has probably been educated in a convent?"
"I was brought up at Mapleton," replied Miss Jones.
"Is Mapleton a convent?" inquired the Duke.
"I'm sure I don't know," answered Miss Jones. "It's a village."
"Elle n'a pas le sens commun," thought Rochechouart. "Belle comme un ange et bête comme un âne!"
"But what is a convent?" inquired Miss Jones.
"Ah! I remember," said the Duke. "You have none in your country. A convent's a place where we shut up pretty young ladies to prevent their falling in love."
"But that must make them more inclined to fall in love when they come out," said Miss Jones.
"Elle n'est pas si bête que je croyais," thought Rochechouart. "C'est de l'ignorance.—I believe it does, indeed," answered he, "but we don't let them out till they're about to be married; and after that, they may fall in love as much as they like, you know."
"May they?" said Miss Jones, opening her eyes with astonishment.
"Certainly," replied he. "It's the custom; everybody does."
"Do they?" exclaimed Miss Jones, looking still more amazed.
"Mais que voulez vous?" said the Duke. "On ne peut pas vivre sans amour. There's no living without love."
"Then it don't signify who one marries in this country," returned Miss Jones, "if one may fall in love with whoever one likes afterwards?"
"Precisely," replied Rochechouart, " a young lady naturally marries for an establishment—for a fortune or a title—and having secured that which is indispensable, she must of course console herself with a lover for the sacrifice she has made."
"But the people that have fortunes and titles are sometimes young and handsome themselves," said Miss Jones, looking at the Duke. "How is it then? Don't they marry?"
"Occasionally we do, certainly," replied Rochechouart.
"And don't your wives love you?" asked she.
Quelquefois!" said he, "a little; but it don't last."
"And what do you marry for? Is it for love?" asked Miss Jones.
"Sometimes," said he, "now and then; but more generally for an alliance, or a fortune. But, ma belle dame," continued he, observing that Miss Jones looked rather disappointed at this avowal," although we seldom marry for love, we very often love without marrying—marriage has nothing to do with love."
"But it has something to do with the establishment you speak of," answered Miss Jones.
"She attacks me with my own weapons," thought Rochechouart.
"True," said he, "and we sometimes sacrifice interest to love."
"Would you?" said Miss Jones, with the greatest naïveté imaginable.
The Duke, experienced as he was, found some difficulty in answering the question. "Hem!—It's not impossible," he said. "I might certainly under great temptation;" and he darted mille amours from his beautiful black eyes.
It was a decided hit. Miss Jones cast down her beautiful blue ones, and a delicate blush suffused her fair cheeks.
"C'est un crise," thought the Duke, "il faut retirer. I shall hope for the honour of seeing Mademoiselle in my box to-night," said he, rising to take his leave. "One of my carriages will be wholly at your orders; and you will find it at your door at eight o'clock, to convey you to the theatre. As I am in waiting at the palace, and must dine at the king's table, I may be late; but I shall have the honour of attending Mademoiselle the moment I'm released. Adieu! till the evening."
"C'est singulier," thought he, as he drove away. "Her beauty is exquisite; yet she is without the slightest education, and has the manners of a peasant. I much doubt whether this man's her uncle. Why leave her alone to receive me? There is a mystery which I am determined to solve."
"Eh bien, Rochechouart?" said D'Armagnac, when they met presently at the palace. "Comment trouvez vous votre déesse?"
"Absolument divine," answered Rochechouart, who had no idea of depreciating the value of his own anticipated triumph; and who was oftener urged to these pursuits by the silly ambition of outstripping his companions, and the desire to show them that he could accomplish whatever he chose to undertake, than by his own passions or inclinations. "She is charming, and her naïveté is as captivating as her beauty."
"I have been making acquaintance with the uncle," said D'Armagnac; "and he has invited me to visit him."
"Invited you?" said Rochechouart, looking not very well pleased.
"Pourquoi pas?" said D'Armagnac.
"You will be nothing the forwarder," answered Rochechouart, "for she cannot speak a word of French, and you do not speak English."
"Bah!" said D'Armagnac, "what does that signify? Faut il de la grammaire pour parler à une jolie femme?"
"Well," said Colonel Jones, to the young lady, when he returned home, "how do you like the Duke?"
"I like him very well," replied Miss Jones.
"And did he tell you he liked you ?" asked the Colonel.
"I believe he's courting me," answered the niece; "but I'm not sure it's for marriage."
"Leave that to me," returned the uncle—"If you take care of yourself, we shall bring him to that, I warrant."
"I'll have nothing to say to him else," answered Miss Jones. "I would rather go on to Bourdeaux directly to the old Marquis. Mr. Gaveston said he was sure he'd marry me."
"May be he would, but there's no telling," replied the Colonel. "And, at all events, a young Duke in the hand is well worth an old Marquis three hundred miles off. Besides, you will have dozens of lovers, and may make your own terms. If one won't another will. There's one of 'em coming here to-morrow, the Count D'Armagnac, just such another swell."
Precisely at eight o'clock, an elegant equipage with two powdered laquais in gorgeous liveries, drove up to the door of the Hotel Marboeuf.
"The Duc de Rochehouart's carriage for Madame," said Grosbois; and the Colonel presenting the young lady his arm, they entered it and drove off.
"Limed, said the birdcatcher," murmured Grosbois to himself, as he stood at the gate and looked after the carriage.
"Entrez, entrez, mon bon Monsieur Grosbois," said Mdaame Coulin, as he passed the door of her entresol; "Entrez et prenez un petit verre."
"Vous êtes bien aimable, Madame," replied Grosbois, accepting the invitation.
"Tenez, Monsieur Grosbois," said she, handing him a glass, "c'est de l'eau de vie de cerise de ma propre facture. Je me flatte que vous ne la trouverez pas mauvaise."
"It's excellent," said Grosbois. "Rien de mieux."
"Take another," said Madame Coulin, "and I'll join you. Ah! c'est bon ça! Eh bien, Monsieur Grosbois," continued she as they sipped the liqueure, "c'est gens, là haut, vont leur train, il me semble. C'étaient des armoiries ducales, si je ne me trompe pas, que je voyais tout à l'heure."
"Ce roué de Rochechouart," replied Grosbois. "C'est un homme extraordinaire celui là. Pour les jeunes filles, il les dévore absolument comme un ogre."
"Mais, l'oncle!" said Madame Coulin, "il n'entendra pas malice la dessus—il porte une épée, lui."
"For the uncle," said Grosboia, "I don't exactly know what to think of him; for to tell you the truth, I have discovered that he has but three shirts; and even they bear decided marks of a very venerable antiquity."
"Oh, ciel! Monsieur Grosbois!" exclaimed Madame Coulin, "you've taken away my breath. N'avoir que trois chemises et prendre mon apartement! Mais, c'est un anachronisme!"
"C'est vrai," answered Grosbois; "and I even suspect that the young lady's wardrobe is not too well provided."
"Dieu!" cried Madame Coulin, "je suis toute en eau! Que peut on penser de gens si mal pourvus?"
"Sans doute," replied Grosbois, "il est difficile de respecter un homme qui n'a que trois chemises."
In the meanwhile the uncle and niece were conveyed to the theatre, and conducted to the Duke's box by Dillon, his servant, who was an Englishman, and therefore appointed to attend on the young lady till the Duke arrived; and if she was amazed at the splendour of the scene to which she was for the first time introduced, the effect of her beauty, and appearance in that situation, produced no less effect on the audience. The honest bourgeois pitied her, and the young exquisites envied him.
"What a pity!" cried the first, as they directed their lorgnettes to the box she was in, "—so young, so beautiful! Hélas! et avec l'air d'une vestale!"
"What a fortunate fellow that Rochechouart is!" cried the second. "Now there's a young beauty that has been in Paris but three days; whose existence was positively unknown to him a few hours ago; and she's in his net already! Sans donte il a quelque manière de les ensonceler qui leur font tomber ainsi dans sa bouche."
"Ce qu'il a," said the old Marquis de Langy, "c'est l'hardiesse et la promptitude. He takes the fort while you are looking about for the pontoons and the scaling ladders."
"C'est vrai," said D'Armagnac. "We'd a fair start—il y avait champ libre pour tous; but whilst we have been discussing who she is and where she came from, Rochechouart pays her a visit, and persuades her to accept his carriage and his box."
"He ought to make a capital commander, Rochechouart," said De L'Orme.
"And so he would," answered De Langy. "I am old, and may not live to see it; but you'll find that when Rochechouart has discharged the unhealthy humours that disfigure his character, il sera tout autre homme. There are the germs of much good in him; but they are stifled by his passions and his vanity."
"I have a mind to go round and introduce myself," said De L'Orme, "before Rochechouart comes."
"You may as well remain where you are," said D'Armagnac. "I've tried my fortune already, and that scoundrel Dillon, literally shut the door in my face, declaring he'd the Duke's special orders to admit no one. 'I dare not for my life,' said he; 'the commands of Monseigneur were absolute, and extend even to you, Monsieur le Comte.'"
"Then he's not sure of his game, and it may not be too late to enter the lists," said De L'Orme.
"Look! look!" cried several voices, "there's Rochechouart just arrived; now we shall see how she receives him."
"That's capital! she has absolutely risen to salute him!" said De L'Orme. "Elle n'a pas de l'usage, c'est clair."
"Ah! elle est très gracieuse!" said the old Marquis. "Ce n'est pas la grace d'une duchesse, je l'avoue; mais c'est celle de la belle Laitière."
"Par exemple, c'est le ballet qu'on donne ce soir, je crois," said D'Armagnac.
"Et croyez moi," said De Langy, "si la danseuse qui va remplir le premier rôle pourrait imiter la grace simple, et tant soit peu paysanne, de la belle Anglaise, la representation serait parfaite."
"I will explain to you the argument of the piece we are about to see represented," said the Duke to Miss Jones. "It is called La belle Laitière, which means, the pretty milkmaid."
"Does it?" said Miss Jones, looking round at him.
"Yes," replied he, "it does. It has been very popular here all the season; and the danseuse who performs Nina, the heroine, is extremely clever—there she is now; that's her, appearing with her milk-pails. That youth who follows her, is a shepherd who is deeply in love with her—but she disdains his suit. See, he kneels, but she is inexorable. Now, observe the cavalier who enters at the back of the stage, and is watching them; that is a prince who, captivated by her charms, has come in disguise to seek her."
"Does he intend to marry her?" inquired Miss Jones.
"Diable!" muttered Rochechouart. "You will see presently," said he. "Now, observe, he kneels at her feet, and vows eternal love. Ah! she says, you must prove it by making me a princess."
"And will he?" asked Miss Jones.
"Look; he says she shall be mistress of his heart, but that being a prince he cannot marry her."
"Then I wouldn't listen to a word more he has to say, if I were her," said Miss Jones.
"You think so," said Rochechouart; "but you wouldn't be able to help it."
"Indeed I should," replied the young lady.
"Not if you were in love," said he, tenderly.
"But I'm not in love," answered Miss Jones.
"That alters the case, certainly," said the Duke. "C'est singulier," thought he; "elle ne resemble pas du tout aux autres femmes que j'ai connu," and he fell into a reverie, forgetting for a time to continue his explanations.
"He's gone," said Miss Jones.
"Who?" said the Duke, starting.
"The prince," said she. "Has she dismissed him?"
"Yes," replied Rochechouart; "she has sent him away discomfited; and there is the shepherd returned to try his fortune again; but she can't bring herself to listen to him."
"I don't wonder at it," returned Miss Jones. "Who would, after being made love to by a prince?"
"I admire your sentiments," said Rochechouart, with animation.
"Monseigneur," said Dillon, opening the box door. "Voici Monsieur le Comte D'Armagnac, qui veut absolument entrer."
"Had you not my positive orders to admit no one?" said the Duke.
"True, Monseigneur," said Dillon; "mais Monsieur le Comte est peremptoire—he will take no refusal."
"C'est à dire, qu'il vous a glissé cinq louis dans la main," said Rochechouart.
"Parole d'honneur, Monseigneur !" said Dillon, laying his hand on his heart.
"Well, I suppose he must be admitted," said Rochechouart.
"This is the gentleman I mentioned to you," said the Colonel to his nieee"The Count D'Armagnac, Miss Jones."
D'Armagnac could not speak any English; but he was very handsome, and dressed à ravir; and if he could make no effective use of his tongue, he made amends with his eyes.
"But, look," said Rochechouart; "we are forgetting the ballet, all this while."
"There is the prince again at her feet," said Miss Jones; "and he has changed his dress."
"He hopes to be more successful in his present brilliant costume," said Rochechouart.
"But she's dismissing him again," said Miss Jones. "And, see, she's accepting the her?" peasant after all. Then the prince won't marry
"No," replied Rochechouart. "He says he would if circumstances permitted; but he can't."
"Well, I would never have married that shepherd, with his coarse clothes, and his crook, if he had knelt there for ever!" exclaimed Miss Jones.
"To be sure not," replied Rochechouart. "I was sure you'd end by being in favour of the prince."
"I'm not in favour of the prince," said the young lady; "I should have blamed her much more if she had listened to him."
"How then?" asked Rochechouart. "What would you have had her do?"
"Waited for another prince," replied Miss Jones, glancing at D'Armagnac—"there are more princes in the world than one."