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The modest, lovable qualities of the youngest sister he did not seem able to see. It was I who felt most profoundly this unexpected stroke of death falling upon the family less than a year after I had become its head. It was terribly unexpected. She was alone with the coachman and old Valery, the personal servant of our late father.
Her name is Imogen. The small manuscript copy of Dante which he showed me was written by a Florentine gentleman of the fourteenth century, one of whose ancestors the poet had met and talked with in Paradise. August 19th. Here is a good Italian incident, which I find in Valery.
Death all but present in the house misfortune following and she had given way to that burst of joy! She drew her hand across her forehead sat down at the table wrote the three lines she had intended to Anne Valery, and then went her way, to watch all night long beside her husband's father.
The chateau of Madame d'Argy, called Lizerolles, was only two miles from Treport, in a charming situation on the road to St. Valery. "That's the very thing, then!" said M. de Nailles. "Fred is going to spend a month at Lizerolles with his mother. You might ride on horseback with him. He is going to enjoy a holiday, poor fellow! before he has to be sent off on long and distant voyages."
He was in his room hung with arras and strewed with rushes; before him in niches, various images of the Virgin, the Archangel Michael, St. Stephen, St. Peter, St. John, St. Valery; and from the bells in the monastic edifice hard by tolled the third watch of the night the narrow casement was out of reach, high in the massive wall, and the starlight was darkened by the great church tower.
"But now," Harriet continued, "what I come for, is to carry you all off to lunch the children's dinner. My dear, you must see my boys, your nephews." Agatha stood aghast at the idea of having nephews! "And such boys!" Miss Valery added, interposing. "'The Missus' has good right to be proud of them.
She fell at the feet of the Duc d'Orleans, begged the protection of the Duc de Beaufort, and said to me that she had the honour to be my kinswoman. M. de Beaufort was very much perplexed what to do, and I was nearly ready to die for shame; but we could do nothing for her, and she was obliged to go to Valery.
Going up to the bed, she clung still more fondly to Wilhelm, and murmured in coy and halting tones "Perhaps you have not noticed that everything in this room, except the altar and the priedieu, is new; I had this fresh little nest arranged for us while we were in St. Valery. I hope our rest may be sweet and our dreams happy ones."
Both the men took off their sheepskin lined greatcoats and used all their own rugs to wrap her up against the cold, notwithstanding her protests, positive orders, and even struggles, as Valery afterward related to me.
And as Agatha knelt by the sofa, Miss Valery leaned over her, twisting her curls and stroking down the lids over her brown eyes in the babyish, fondling ways which all good people can condescend to at times, especially when recovering from sickness. "She is a foolish child! Did she fancy nobody loved her? Does she suppose nobody sees her poor little goodnesses? Oh, but they do!
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