e poor child's cheeks. In every way she was a pattern of the
class of women amongst whom my youth had been spent, a class which had
done so much towards shattering my faith and lowering my estimate of her
sex. Lavedan had married her and brought her into Languedoc, and here
she spent her years lamenting the scenes of her youth, and prone, it
would seem, to make them matter for conversation whenever a newcomer
chanced to present himself at the chateau.

Looking from her to her daughter, I thanked Heaven that Roxalanne was no
reproduction of the mother. She had inherited as little of her character
as of her appearance. Both in feature and in soul Mademoiselle de
Lavedan was a copy of that noble, gallant gentleman, her father.

One other was present at that meal, of whom I shall have more to say
hereafter. This was a young man of good presence, save, perhaps, a too
obtrusive foppishness, whom Monsieur de Lavedan presented to me as a
distant kinsman of theirs, one Chevalier de Saint-Eustache. He was
very tall--of fully my own height--and of an excellent shape, although
extremely young. But his head if anything was too small for his body,
and his good-natured mouth was of a weakness that was confirmed by the
significance of his chin, whilst his eyes were too closely set to augur
frankness.

He was a pleasant fellow, seemingly of that negative pleasantness
that lies in inoffensiveness, but otherwise dull and of an untutored
mind--rustic, as might be expected in one the greater part of whose life
had been spent in his native province, and of a rusticity rendered all
the more flagrant by the very efforts he exerted to dissemble it.

It was after madame had related that unsavoury anecdote touching the
Cardinal that he turned to ask me whether I was well acquainted with the
Court. I was near to committing the egregious blunder of laughing in his
face, but, recollecting myself betimes, I answered vaguely that I had
some knowledge of it, whereupon he all but caused me to bound from my
chair by asking me had I ever met the Magnificent Bardelys.

"I--I am acquainted with him," I answered warily. "Why do you ask?"

"I was reminded of him by the fact that his servants have been here for
two days. You were expecting the Marquis himself, were you not, Monsieur
le Vicomte?"

Lavedan raised his head suddenly, after the manner of a man who has
received an affront.

"I was not, Chevalier," he answered, with emphasis. "His intendant,