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Updated: May 1, 2025
"Understand me, mademoiselle," Mayenne went on. "I pardon him, but not that he may be anything to you. That time is past. The St. Quentins are Navarre's men now, and our enemies. For your sake I will let Mar alone; but if he come near you again, I will crush him as I would a buzzing fly." "That I understand, monsieur," she answered in a low tone.
"Not so," she cried. "He was here in Paris when it happened. He was revolted at the deed." "Did they teach you that at the convent?" "No, but it is true. M. de St. Quentin warned my cousin Henri not to go to Blois." "Pardieu, you think them angels, these St. Quentins." "I think them brave and honest gentlemen, as I think you, Cousin Charles."
But afterward he changed his mind. He knew it was you, and only you." Lucas broke again into derisive laughter. "M. de Grammont is as dull a dolt as ever I met, yet clever enough to gull you. He thought you must suspect. I dreaded it needlessly. You wise St. Quentins! You cannot see what goes on under your very nose." M. le Comte sprang forward, scarlet. Lucas flourished the sword.
"You may count yourself thrice fortunate, then, that a third alternative is given you." "It needs not the reminder. You have treated me as a prince indeed. Be assured the St. Quentins will not forget." "Every one forgets." "Perhaps. But when you need our good offices we shall not have had time to forget." "Pardieu, St. Quentin, you have good courage to tell me to my head my course is run!"
In fact it was only under long and heavy pressure, from circumstances as well as from Aunt Theresa, that he gave his consent to a plan which never quite met with his approval. Several things at this time seemed to conspire to effect it. The St. Quentins were going on long leave, and Miss Airlie would go with them. This was a heavy blow.
"That I will, then. But I warn you I am out of patience with these St. Quentins." "Then you are out of patience with devotion to your cause, Sire." "What! you speak for the recreants?" "I assure you, Sire, you have no more loyal servant than M. de Mar." "Strange I cannot recollect the face of my so loyal servant," the king said dryly.
I was minded as I worked of Lucas and his bonds, and wondered whether he had managed to rid himself of their inconvenience. He went straightway, doubtless, to some confederate who cut them for him, and even now was planning fresh evil against the St. Quentins.
Quentins are not precisely millionaires, you know. Her wealth left her free to espouse the cause of womanhood at large. She is a little bit Quixotic, dear thing, and given to tilting at windmills. She wants to secure to working women a fair business basis that is the technical expression, I believe. And so she starts clubs, and forms circles.
He is made up, like all the rest of us, of good and bad." "Monsieur," I said, "if there is any bad in the St. Quentins I, for one, do not know it." "Ah, Félix," he cried, "you may believe that till doomsday you will of Monsieur." His face clouded a little, and he fell silent. I knew that, besides his thoughts of his lady, came other thoughts of his father. He sat gravely silent.
"Is not monsieur a thought unreasonable? I cannot be in two places at once. Monsieur can send a letter. The duke has Vigo and a household. I go with M. le Comte." "Oh," he cried, "you are a faithful servant! We are ridden to death by our faithful servants, we St. Quentins. Myself, I prefer fleas!" He added, growing angrier, "Will you leave me?" "No, monsieur," said I.
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