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You will be cutting off your pretty curly hair, and putting on a French perruque, like his" pointing to De Malfort. "Please do not. You would be like everybody else in London and now you are only like yourself and vastly handsome." "Hush, Henriette! you are much too pert," remonstrated Fareham. "But 'tis the very truth, father.
"Prythee, take your guitar and sing to us, were it but to change the conversation," cried Hyacinth; and De Malfort took up his guitar and began, in the sweetest of tenors, "Go, lovely rose." He had all her ladyship's visitors, chiefly feminine, round him before he had finished the first verse. That gift of song, that exquisite touch upon the Spanish guitar, were irresistible.
Her hunting-coats were marvels of embroidery on atlas and smooth cloth; but her smartest velvet and brocade she kept for the sunny mornings, when, with hooded peregrine on wrist, she sallied forth intent on slaughter, Angela, Papillon, and De Malfort for her cortege, an easy-paced horse to amble over the grass with her, and the Dutch falconer to tell her the right moment at which to slip her falcon's hood.
Lord Fareham stayed in his own house by the Thames, and nobody interfered with his liberty, though Henri de Malfort lay for nearly a fortnight between life and death, and it was only in the beginning of December that he was pronounced out of danger, and was able to be removed from Lady Castlemaine's luxurious rooms to his own lodgings.
The town was told that the Comte de Malfort was ill of a quartain fever, and much was said about his sufferings during the Fronde, his exposure to damp and cold in the sea-marshes by Dunkirk, his rough fare and hard riding through the war of the Princes.
"Himself the vainest of men, 'tis scarce wonderful that he takes vanity to be the mainspring that moves the human species," said De Malfort, when some one had found fault with the Duke's analysis. "Oh, now we shall hear nothing but stale Rochefoucauldisms, sneers at love and friendship, disparagement of our ill-used sex! Where has my grave husband been, I wonder?" said Hyacinth.
It was so unlike Hyacinth to be secret about anything; and her sister feared, therefore, that there was some plot of De Malfort's contriving De Malfort, whom she regarded with distrust and even repugnance; for she could recall no sentiment of his that did not make for evil.
Rochester is always hanging about your garden, or landing from his wherry, when I go by; or, if he himself be not visible, there are a couple of his watermen on your steps." "My Lord Rochester has a precocious wit which amuses my wife and her sister." "And then there is De Malfort an impertinent, second only to Gramont. He and Lady Fareham are twin stars. I have seldom seen them apart."
"You ladies must have been vastly black when you came out of your hiding-place," said De Malfort. "I should have been sorry to see so much beauty disguised in soot. Perhaps Mrs. Kirkland means to appear in the character of a chimney at our next Court masquerade. She would cause as great a stir as Lady Muskerry, in all her Babylonian splendour; but for other reasons.
Only De Malfort could have thought of such a thing. Lying ill and alone, he sends me the sweetest token of his regard my favourite air, his own setting the last song I ever heard him sing. And you wonder that I value so pure, so disinterested a love!" protested Hyacinth to her sister, in the silence at the end of the song.
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