Your words, I assure you, admit of no
doubt whatever. And now, monsieur, if you will have mercy upon me,
we will talk of other things. I am so weary of this unfortunate
Bardelys and his affairs. He may be the fashion of Paris and at
Court, but down here his very name befouls the air. Mademoiselle,"
I said, turning to Roxalanne, "you promised me a lesson in the lore
of flowers."
"Come, then," said she, and, being an exceedingly wise child, she
plunged straightway into the history of the shrubs about us.
Thus did we avert a storm that for a moment was very imminent. Yet
some mischief was done, and some good, too, perhaps. For if I made
an enemy of the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache by humbling him in the
eyes of the one woman before whom he sought to shine, I established
a bond 'twixt Roxalanne and myself by that same humiliation of a
foolish coxcomb, whose boastfulness had long wearied her.
CHAPTER VII
THE HOSTILITY OF SAINT-EUSTACHE
In the days that followed I saw much of the Chevalier de
Saint-Eustache. He was a very constant visitor at Lavedan, and the
reason of it was not far to seek. For my own part, I disliked
him - I had done so from the moment when first I had set eyes on
him - and since hatred, like affection, is often a matter of
reciprocity, the Chevalier was not slow to return my dislike. Our
manner gradually, by almost imperceptible stages, grew more distant,
until by the end of a week it had become so hostile that Lavedan
found occasion to comment upon it.
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