ung soldier," said Orleans; and
passing forward, paid his compliments to the Princess, with that air of
constraint which always marked his courtesy when addressing her.

He had been dining, he said, with Dunois, and understanding there was
society in Roland's Gallery, he had ventured on the freedom of adding
one to the number.

The colour which mounted into the pale cheek of the unfortunate Joan,
and which for the moment spread something of beauty over her features,
evinced that this addition to the company was anything but indifferent
to her. She hastened to present the Prince to the two Ladies of Croye,
who received him with the respect due to his eminent rank; and the
Princess, pointing to a chair, requested him to join their conversation
party.

The Duke declined the freedom of assuming a seat in such society; but
taking a cushion from one of the settles, he laid it at the feet of the
beautiful young Countess of Croye, and so seated himself, that, without
appearing to neglect the Princess, he was enabled to bestow the greater
share of his attention on her lovely neighbour.

At first, it seemed as if this arrangement rather pleased than offended
his destined bride. She encouraged the Duke in his gallantries towards
the fair stranger, and seemed to regard them as complimentary to
herself. But the Duke of Orleans, though accustomed to subject his mind
to the stern yoke of his uncle when in the King's presence, had enough
of princely nature to induce him to follow his own inclinations whenever
that restraint was withdrawn; and his high rank giving him a right to
overstep the ordinary ceremonies, and advance at once to familiarity,
his praises of the Countess Isabelle's beauty became so energetic, and
flowed with such unrestrained freedom, owing perhaps to his having drunk
a little more wine than usual--for Dunois was no enemy to the worship of
Bacchus--that at length he seemed almost impassioned, and the presence
of the Princess appeared well nigh forgotten.

The tone of compliment which he indulged was grateful only to one
individual in the circle; for the Countess Hameline already anticipated
the dignity of an alliance with the first Prince of the Blood, by means
of her whose birth, beauty, and large possessions rendered such an
ambitious consummation by no means impossible, even in the eyes of a
less sanguine projector, could the views of Louis XI have been left
out of the calculation of chances. The younger Cou