are much too fine for
me! What should one do here with rubies and diamonds? How can I thank
the Duke!"

"Not so. He will thank you for accepting it. He begged me to say--as you
will find by his letter to you--that if you will but go to him upon a
visit with this great man here"--pointing to the child with a smile--"he
will count it one of the greatest pleasures of his life. He is too old
to come to you, but he begs you to go to him--the Chevalier, and you,
and Guilbert here. He is much alone now, and he longs for a little of
that friendship which can be given by but few in this world. He counts
upon your coming, for I said I thought you would."

"It would seem so strange," she answered, "to go from this cottage of
my childhood, to which I have come back in peace at last--from this
kitchen, to the chateau of the Duc de Mauban."

"But it was sure to come," he answered. "This kitchen to which I come
also to redeem my pledge after seven years, it belongs to one part of
your life. But there is another part to fulfil,"--he stooped and passed
his hands over the curls of the child, "and for your child here you
should do it."

"I do not find your meaning," she said after a moment's deliberation. "I
do not know what you would have me understand."

"In some ways you and I would be happier in simple surroundings," he
replied gravely, "but it would seem that to play duly our part in the
world, we must needs move in wider circles. To my mind this kitchen is
the most delightful spot in the world. Here I took a fresh commission of
life. I went out, a sort of battered remnant, to a forlorn hope; and now
I come back to headquarters once again--not to be praised," he added
in an ironical tone, and with a quick gesture of almost boyish
shyness--"not to be praised; only to show that from a grain of decency
left in a man may grow up some sheaves of honest work and plain duty."

"No, it is much more than that, it is much, much more than that," she
broke in.

"No, I am afraid it is not," he answered; "but that is not what I wished
to say. I wished to say that for monseigneur here--"

A little flash of anger came into her eyes. "He is no monseigneur, he is
Guilbert d'Avranche," she said bitterly. "It is not like you to mock my
child, Prince. Oh, I know you mean it playfully," she hurriedly added,
"but--but it does not sound right to me."

"For the sake of monseigneur the heir to the duchy of Bercy," he added,
laying his hand upon th