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En vain la duchesse en rougit, Et la princesse en gronde, Chacun sait que Venus naquit De l'ecume de l'onde. En rit-elle moins tous les dieux. Lui rendre un juste hommage! Et Paris, le berger fameux, Lui donner l'avantage Meme sur la reine des cieux Et Minerve la sage? Dans le serail du grand seigneur. Quelle est la favorite? C'est la plus belle au gre de coeur Du maitre qui l'habite.
In brief, he might have stood for one of those persons of birth and ability who become prime ministers of France. "Monsieur de St. Gre?" I said. He bowed gracefully, but with a tinge of condescension. I was awed, and considering the relations which I had already had with his family, I must admit that I was somewhat frightened.
Gre's eyes on me as I bowed, and I began to think I was in near as great a predicament as Auguste. Monsieur de St. Gre was managing the matter with infinite wisdom. "Sit down, my son," he said; "you have no doubt been staying with your uncle." Auguste sat down, still staring. "Does your aunt's health mend?" "She is better to-night, father," said the son, in English which might have been improved.
"I am glad of it," said Monsieur de St. Gre, taking a chair. "Andre, fill the glasses." The silent, linen-clad mulatto poured out the Madeira, shot a look at Auguste, and retired softly. "There has been a heavy rain, Monsieur," said Monsieur de St. Gre to me, "but I think the air is not yet cleared. I was about to say, Mr.
"Oh, papa," she cried in French, "we are so worried about her, mamma and I. It was the day you went away, the day these gentlemen came, that we thought she would take an airing. And suddenly she became worse." Monsieur de St. Gre turned with concern to his wife. "I do not know what it is, Philippe," said that lady; "it seems to be mental. The loss of her husband weighs upon her, poor lady.
Ritchie, she is a very ill woman and a very sad woman, the saddest woman I have ever known, and I have seen many." "And Mademoiselle de St. Gre?" I asked. "Tell me about this man for whom Antoinette has ruined her life," said Madame la Vicomtesse, brusquely. "Is he worth it? No, no man is worth what she has suffered. What has become of him? Where is he?
"Fixe-t-elle sur moi sa bizarre inconstance, Mon concur lui saura gre' du bien qu'elle me fait Veut'elle en d'autres lieux marquer sa bienvellance, Je lui remets ses dons sans chagrin, sans regret. Plein d'une vertu plus forte J'epouse la pauvrete' Si pour dot elle m'apporte L'honneur et la probite'" "It is not necessary to make ourselves uneasy about the future."
I had a quaint feeling of unreality as I sank back on the red satin cushions and was borne out of the gate between the lions. Monsieur de St. Gre and Nick walked in front, the faithful Lindy followed, and people paused to stare at us as we passed.
"You tek ze air, Monsieur Reetchie?" said he. "You look for some one, yes? You git up too late see him off." I made a swift resolve never to quibble with this man. "So Mr. Temple has gone to New Orleans with the Sieur de St. Gre," I said. Citizen Gignoux laid a fat finger on one side of his great nose. The nose was red and shiny, I remember, and glistened in the sunlight.
Your sister has already made enough sacrifices for you. I know you, Monsieur Auguste de St. Gre," she continued with quiet contempt. "It is not for love of Antoinette that you have sought this meeting. It is because," she said, riding down a torrent of words which began to escape from him, "it is because you are in a predicament, as usual, and you need money." It was Antoinette who spoke.
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