Page:Cerise, a tale of the last century (IA cerisetaleoflast00whytrich).pdf/489

 quarrelled with his uncle, the Prince-Marshal, on the score of that relative's undutiful conduct. The veteran had paid the young soldier's debts twice, and lo! the third time he remonstrated. His nephew, under pretext of an old wound disabling the sword-arm, obtained permission to retire from the army, thinking thus to annoy his uncle, and accepted an appointment as attaché to the French embassy at the Court of St. James's, for which he was specially unfitted both by nature and education.

"You arrived, madame, but yesterday," said he, bowing over the hand extended to him, with an affectation of extreme devotion. "I learned it this morning, and behold I fly here on the instant, to place myself, my chief, and all the resources of my country, at the disposition of madame."

"Of course," she answered, smiling; "but in the meantime, understand me, I neither want yourself, however charming, nor your chief, however discreet, nor the resources of your country and mine, however powerful. I am here on private affairs, and till they are concluded I shall have no leisure to enter society. What I ask of your devotion now is, to sit down in that chair, and tell me the news, while I finish my chocolate in peace."

He obeyed delighted—evidently, she was rejoiced to meet him here, so unexpectedly, and could not conceal her gratification. He was treated like an intimate friend, an established favourite—Justine had retired. The Marquise loitered over her chocolate. She looked well, wonderfully handsome for her age, and she had never appeared so kind. "Ah, rogue!" thought this enviable youth, apostrophising the person he most admired in the world, "must it always be so? mothers and daughters, maids, wives, and widows.—No escape, parbleu, and no mercy. What is it about you, my boy, that thus prostrates every creature in a petticoat before the feet of Casimir de Chateau-Guerrand? Is it looks, is it manners, is it intellect? Faith, I think it must be a happy mixture of them all!"

"Well!" said the Marquise with one of her victorious glances, "I am not very patient, you know that of old. Quick! out with the news, you who have the knack of telling it so well."