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You saw me quarrelling with my brother, Auguste," she went on a little excitedly. "Oh, I am very much ashamed of it. I was so angry. My cousin, Mademoiselle Helene de Saint-Gre, has just sent me from France such a beautiful miniature, and Auguste fell in love with it." "Fell in love with it!" I exclaimed involuntarily.
And yet he is a Saint-Gre, Monsieur, and I cannot refuse him. It is the miniature of Mademoiselle Helene de Saint-Gre, the daughter of the Marquis, sent to Mamselle 'Toinette, his sister, from France. How he has obtained it I know not." "Ah!" I exclaimed sharply, the explanation of the scene of which I had been a witness coming to me swiftly.
"Mademoiselle Helene Victoire Marie de Saint-Gre, painted in a costume of Henry the Second's time, with a ruff, you notice, which she wore at a ball given by his Highness the Prince of Conde at Chantilly. A trifle haughty, if you like, Monsieur, but I venture to say you will be hopelessly in love with her within the hour." At this there was a general titter from the young gentlemen at the table.
"You are very welcome, Messieurs," she answered, with the same delightful accent which her daughter had used, "and you are especially welcome from such a source. The friends of Colonel Chouteau and of Monsieur Gratiot are our friends. You will remain with us, I hope, Messieurs," she continued. "Monsieur de Saint-Gre will return in a few days at best."
The rascal had wrenched it from her in the gallery and fled. "Monsieur," continued Madame, too excited to notice my interruption, "if I had four hundred livres I would buy it of him, and Monsieur de Saint-Gre pere would willingly pay it back in the morning." I reflected.
It seemed an age before he answered: "It is curious that you should mention them, for I gave them letters to New Orleans, amongst others, to Saint-Gre. Mrs. Clive was what shall I say? haunted. Monsieur Clive talked of nothing but Paris, where they had lived once. And at last she gave in. They have gone there." "To Paris?" I said, taking breath. "Yes.
"Antoinette de Saint-Gre," I answered; "our letter is to her father." He made me a rueful bow. "I fear that I have undervalued you, Mr. Ritchie," he said. "You have no peer. I am unworthy to accompany you, and furthermore, it would be useless." "And why useless!" I inquired, laughing. "You have doubtless seen the lady, and she is yours, said he.
Ritchie and myself." "You have come to stay awhile?" she said. I thought it time that the farce were ended. "We have come with letters to your father, Monsieur de Saint-Gre, Mademoiselle," I said, "and I should like very much to see him, if he is at leisure." Mademoiselle stared at me in unfeigned astonishment. "But did you not meet him, Monsieur?" she demanded.
Entering my room and closing the door after me, I drew the miniature from my pocket and stood gazing at it for I know not how long. I stood staring at the portrait, I say, with a kind of fascination that astonished me, seeing that it had come to me in such a way. It was no French face of my imagination, and as I looked it seemed to me that I knew Mademoiselle Helene de Saint-Gre.
When Auguste saw that he fell in love with it, and now he wishes to go to France and obtain a commission through our cousin, the Marquis of Saint-Gre, and marry Mademoiselle Helene." "A comprehensive programme, indeed," said Nick. "My father has gone back to New Orleans," she said, "to get the miniature from Auguste. He took it from me, Monsieur." She raised her head a little proudly.
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