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Updated: June 1, 2025
The Duke de Castel-Montjoie, the Dowager's only son, had been chosen by the seconds as umpire. De Morlay and Styvens approved the choice. The great hall had been invaded by a score of servants who arranged the chairs, placed the palms, and hung silver chains to separate the musicians from the audience.
For a long time it had been rumoured that the very pretty Countess de Morgueil, widowed two years ago, was violently infatuated with the Duke de Morlay, who was said not to be indifferent to her affection. Afraid apparently that his meaning had not been plain, Marset insisted, "she is always circling about the Duke."
The Duke de Morlay travelled there with them, adoring Italy as does every devotee of art. There was not a corner of this rare country that he did not know. The sojourn of the young couple in Italy was pure enchantment. Maurice was constantly surprised by the intellectual strength of his companion. Like most artists he had an indulgent scorn for what so many call and think the worldly class.
Darbois did not wish to leave her daughter, but the philosopher insisted, until she could not refuse, that she should go back to the Countess Styvens. When the professor arrived at the Chateau he found the Duke de Morlay at the gate waiting for tidings. At sight of Esperance unconscious, her head fallen back on her father's breast, he jumped on the step of the victoria.
The young people could see that it contained only two ladies and the philosopher, and Genevieve breathed again. The Princess descended lightly before the front door. She kissed Esperance, and after speaking to Mme. Darbois, had Maurice, Jean and Genevieve presented to her. "You did the portrait of which the Duke de Morlay has spoken so highly?" Maurice bowed.
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