He
described his suppers, his retinue, his equipages, his houses, his
chateaux, his favour with the King, his successes with the fair sex,
and I know not what besides - in all of which I confess that even
to me there was a certain degree of novelty. Roxalanne listened
with an air of amusement that showed how well she read him. Later,
when I found myself alone with her by the river, whither we had
gone after the repast and the Chevalier's reminiscences were at
an end, she reverted to that conversation.
"Is not my cousin a great fanfarron, monsieur," she asked.
"Surely you know your cousin better than I," I answered cautiously.
"Why question me upon his character?"
"I was hardly questioning; I was commenting. He spent a fortnight
in Paris once, and he accounts himself, or would have us account
him, intimate with every courtier at the Luxembourg. Oh, he is very
amusing, this good cousin, but tiresome too." She laughed, and
there was the faintest note of scorn in her amusement. "Now,
touching this Marquis de Bardelys, it is very plain that the
Chevalier boasted when he said that they were as brothers - he and
the Marquis - is it not? He grew ill at ease when you reminded
him of the possibility of the Marquis's visit to Lavedan." And she
laughed quaintly to herself. "Do you think that he so much as
knows Bardelys?" she asked me suddenly.
"Not so much as by sight," I answered. "He is full of information
concerning that unworthy gentleman, but it is only information
that the meanest scullion in Paris might afford you, and just as
inaccurate.
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