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Updated: June 5, 2025
Oh! let me finish," she cried, at a gesture from the duke. "Judging by my nephew's emotion," whispered Mademoiselle d'Herouville to her niece, "it is easy to see you have a sister." "Monsieur le duc, all this was settled in my mind the day of our first ride, when I heard you deplore your situation. This is what I have wished to say to you. That day determined my future life.
D'Hérouville choked, and presently found his voice. "I have not even touched him. God is witness! He has been stricken by a vapor, or he is dead." "It is well for you, Monsieur, that your sword did not touch him. You had better go." The count's hand shook so that he could hardly put his rapier into the scabbard.
And without the consolation of a friendly priest!" "Monsieur, do you know me?" "Why, yes, Jehan." "Brother Jacques and Monsieur le Comte returned this day from the wilderness. I have seen them." The marquis's hands became still. "Pride has filled my path with black pits. Jehan, after all, was it a dream?" "What, Monsieur?" "That duel with D'Hérouville" "It was no dream, Monsieur." "That is well.
They were almost evenly matched, for the vicomte was weary from his contest with D'Hérouville and the Chevalier. For many years madame saw this day in her dreams.
She begged Beauvouloir to regard her always as one who would do him any service in her power. On that the poor man told her that she held his happiness in her hands. Then he related briefly how the Comte d'Herouville had in his youth loved a courtesan, known by the name of La Belle Romaine, who had formerly belonged to the Cardinal of Lorraine.
"Monsieur le Chevalier has yet a good deal to learn from his father. See the moon, Anne; how beautiful it is!" "Your Excellency," began the marquis, resuming his seat, "where may I find Monsieur le Comte d'Hérouville this evening?" "I am at a loss to say," was the reply, "unless he is at the hospital, which I understand he left this day." "He is not here at the château, then?"
He discovered D'Hérouville leaning against a cannon, contemplating the escarps and bastions of the citadel. The marquis went forward, striking his heels soundly. D'Hérouville roused himself and turned round. "You are Monsieur le Comte d'Hérouville," began the marquis, abruptly. "I am," peering into the marquis's face, and stepping back in surprise.
The Vicomte d'Halluys adjusted his baldric and entered the great dining-hall of the Château Saint Louis. He and D'Hérouville sat side by side. "Vicomte, you have never told me why the Chevalier is here. Why should he leave France, he, who possessed a fortune, who had Mazarin's favor, and who had all the ladies at his feet?"
My wound may open again, and that would put me back." "I advise you to take the air to-day." "I shall do so." They were very courtly in those old days. So D'Hérouville went forth to take the air that afternoon and incidentally to pay his respects in person to Madame de Brissac. Fortune favored him, for he met her coming down the path from the upper town.
In decorating this house, which Crevel regarded as his own, Grindot had tried to compete with Cleretti, in whose hands the Duc d'Herouville had placed Josepha's villa. But Crevel, incapable of understanding art, had, like all sordid souls, wanted to spend a certain sum fixed beforehand. Grindot, fettered by a contract, had found it impossible to embody his architectural dream.
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