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Ah! had I been trained to some employment, some profession! had I well it is weak to repine. Mother, tell me, you have seen Mons. de Vaudemont: is he strong and healthy?" "Yes; too much so. He has not your elegance, dear Arthur." "And do you admire him, Camilla? Has no other caught your heart or your fancy?" "My dear Arthur," interrupted Mrs.
"I should like to feel a sovereign just to feel it," muttered Simon, in a sort of apologetic tone, that was really pathetic; and as Vaudemont scattered some coins on the table, the old man clawed them up, chuckling and talking to himself; and, rising with great alacrity, hobbled out of the room like a raven carrying some cunning theft to its hiding-place.
Vaudemont was startled by the simplicity of the question, and hesitated. Fanny looked up in his dark face anxiously and inquiringly. "Well," she said, "you don't answer?" "My dear Fanny, there are some things in which I could wish you less childlike and, perhaps, less charming. Those strange snatches of song, for instance!" "What! do you not like me to sing? It is my way of talking."
Vaudemont sighed heavily. He heard his sigh echoed; but by one that had in its sound no breath of pain; he turned; Fanny had raised her veil; her eyes met his, moistened, but bright, soft, and her cheeks were rosy-red. Vaudemont recoiled before that gaze, and turned from the church.
Besides, I've said all I can say; rest quiet act on the defensive entangle this cursed Vaudemont, or Morton, or whoever he be, in the mesh of your daughter's charms, and then get rid of him, not before. This can do no harm, let the matter turn out how it will. Read the papers; and send for Blackwell if you want advice on any, new advertisements.
Late at noon came the postman's unwonted knock at the door. A letter! a letter for Miss Fanny. A letter! the first she had ever received in her life! And it was from him! and it began with "Dear Fanny." Vaudemont had called her "dear Fanny" a hundred times, and the expression had become a matter of course. But "Dear Fanny" seemed so very different when it was written.
And, as she gazed, Vaudemont turned round her eyes fell beneath his, and she felt angry with herself that she blushed. Vaudemont saw the downcast eye, he saw the blush, and the attraction of Camilla's presence was restored. He would have approached her, but at that moment Mr. Beaufort himself entered, and his thoughts went again into a darker channel.
With that he joined Lord Lilburne's group, and accepted the invitation to the card-table. At supper, Vaudemont conversed more than was habitual to him; he especially addressed himself to his host, and listened, with great attention, to Lilburne's caustic comments upon every topic successively started.
For a poor man it might be different the poor need affection." "Ay, the poor, certainly," said Lord Lilburne, with an air of patronising candour. "And I will own farther," continued De Vaudemont, "that I have willingly lost my money in return for the instruction I have received in hearing you converse." "You are kind: come and take your revenge next Thursday. Adieu."
Vaudemont was at the head of a further force of 2000 cavalry and 8000 foot, paid for by Spain and the Pope; 24,000 additional soldiers, riders and infantry together, had been gathered by Maximilian of Bavaria at the expense of the League. Even if the reports were exaggerated, the Advocate thought it better to be too credulous than as apathetic as the rest of the Protestants.
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