the vast estates of his dead
friend and kinsman, and though he felt for the lady he had married a
certain animal attraction, which easily cooled as the years went on, his
passion for the wealth of Nevers was more pronounced than his passion for
the wife of Nevers, and he contented himself easily enough with the part
assigned to him by his wife in the tragi-comedy. Every day he requested,
very courteously, through Monsieur Peyrolles, permission to wait upon the
princess, and every day the princess, also through a servant, expressed
her regret that the state of her health would not allow her the pleasure
of receiving his highness. So it had been through the years since Louis
de Nevers was done to death in the moat of Caylus.

On the day after the fair at Neuilly, Louis de Gonzague was seated in the
room of the Three Louis busily writing at a table. By his side stood
Peyrolles, his gorgeous attire somewhat unpleasantly accentuating the
patent obsequiousness with which he waited upon his master's will. For a
while Gonzague's busy pen formed flowing Italian characters upon the page
before him. Presently he came to an end, reread his letter, shook over
the final writings some silver sand, then folded it and sealed it
leisurely. When he had done he spoke to Peyrolles:

"This letter is to go to his majesty. Send Dona Flora here. Stay! Who is
in the antechamber?"

Peyrolles answered with a bow: "The Chevalier Cocardasse and the
Chevalier Passepoil, monseigneur."

Gonzague made a faint grimace. "Let them wait there."

Peyrolles inclined profoundly. "Yes, monseigneur," he said, and waited.
The long knowledge of his master's manner, the long study of the
expression on his master's face, told him he had not done with him, and
he was right, for in a moment Gonzague spoke to him again:

"This gypsy girl will serve the turn to perfection. She is dark, as
Gabrielle de Caylus was dark. She is beautiful, not so beautiful as
Gabrielle de Caylus indeed, but, bah! filia pulchra, matre pulchrior.
Before the king to-day I will produce her. The princess cannot but accept
her. If afterwards a charming young girl should die of a decline--many
die so--the fortune of Louis de Nevers becomes the fortune of Louis de
Gonzague, who will know very well what to do with it, having the
inestimable advantage of being alive."

Peyrolles indulged in the privilege of a faint little laugh at this
witticism of his master, but apparently the applause did