These Old Shades

Rupert grinned.

“What, the ham? Ay, ’twas good advice, stap me it was! But I’ll not deny ’twas said to enrage you, Edward.”

“It succeeded in doing so, scamp. Avon, I’ll not ask you to send Gaston back to England. I can return there myself, and join you in Paris next week.”

“My dear Edward, it is good for Gaston to bestir himself. He grows fat and lazy. He shall meet us in Paris.”

“You are very good,” Marling bowed.

“That is not my reputation,” said his Grace, and rang the bell.

On the following morning the whole party set out for Paris. Lady Fanny was flustered, Marling amused, Rupert flippant, Leonie excited, and the Duke leisurely and placid as ever. The entire population of Le Dennier turned out to see the passing of this cavalcade, and marvelled at the chaise piled high with baggage, at the great berline with his Grace’s arms blazoned on the door, and at the two smaller coaches that followed it.

The Marlings occupied one of these, while Avon, Leonie and Rupert travelled in the berline. Rupert was propped up with cushions to alleviate the discomfort of the jolting, and whiled away the time by playing cards with Leonie. His Grace lay back in his corner and watched them in some amusement.

CHAPTER XXIV

Hugh Davenant is Agreeably Surprised

They rested at Rouen over the week-end, and came to Paris on Tuesday. Walker awaited them in the hall of the Hotel Avon, and not by the flicker of an eyelid did he betray that he recognized Leonie. All was in order for his Grace’s coming, and Lady Fanny immediately took charge of the establishment. Having seen to the unpacking of her trunks, and scattered her orders broadcast, she repaired to his Grace in the library, what time Leonie went to see Madame Dubois the housekeeper.

“Well, Justin, what now?” said my lady, sitting down opposite him at his desk. “Are we to make some noise?”

“Decidedly, Fanny. As much noise as possible. I await your suggestions.”

“A ball,” she said briskly. “’Twill do for a beginning.” She bit her finger-tip reflectively. “I must equip the child first, and myself. I declare I have scarce a rag to my back! A white brocade for Leonie, I think, or a certain shade of green. With that flaming head——”

“My dear, I desire she shall be poudree.”

“As you will, Justin. Yes, it might be pretty. We shall see. I dare swear you have your reasons for wishing it. I shall send the invitations for—a fortnight hence. It’s a little enough time, to be sure, but I don’t despair of acceptances. Your name and mine, my dear——” Her eyes sparkled. “I vow I’ll have all Paris here! And then?”

“Then, my dear Fanny, Versailles,” he said.

Lady Fanny nodded.

“It’s very well. You’ll make some stir with her, Justin.”

“It is my intention,” he said. “Send out your cards, my dear.”

“Expense?” She cocked her head to one side.

“You will not consider it. I think we will have the young Conde and De Penthicvre. The Duc de Richelieu also.”

“I leave them to you. There must be Madame du Deffand, of course, and the Duchesse de la Roque.” Lady Fanny half-closed her eyes. “My dearest Justin, there is no one who is anyone who will not come to the ball, I pledge you my word! But la, what a work I have before me! They’ll come out of curiosity, depend upon it!” She rustled to the door. “The child’s toilettes, Justin?”

“I never quarrel with your taste, Fanny.”

“How droll ’twill be! ’Tis as though I had a daughter, though thank heaven I have not! She’s to be richly clad?”

“As befits my ward, Fanny, but r la jeune fille.”

“Oh, never fear! You’ll not complain. Dear me, I have not been so excited since my girlhood, when you took me to Versailles, Justin. The whole house must be thrown open. I vow some of the rooms are positively thick with dust. ’Twill need an army to set all in order. The Ball but starts my activities, I assure you.” She laughed delightedly. “We will have soirees, and card-parties, a rout, maybe, and—oh, we shall make some stir!” She hurried away, full of business-like determination.

His Grace sat down to write a letter to Hugh Davenant.

From then onward the Hotel Avon was plunged into bustling activity. Milliners and mantua-makers came and went, dancing masters and coiffeurs; and the servants invaded every shut room, and threw it open, and swept and garnished it. His Grace was hardly ever at home. He was at pains to show himself abroad, circulating the news of his return. Rupert he set to promote an ever-ready curiosity, so my lord as soon as he was well enough, sallied forth to the gaming houses, and to the abodes of his cronies, and characteristically spread the tale of his brother’s latest whim. Leonie’s beauty lost nothing in his description of it; he hinted at dark mystery, and assured all and sundry that Avon counted on the presence of the Prince de Conde at his ball, and that also of M. de Richelieu. Paris began to hum, and Fanny sat in her boudoir with notes of acceptance scattered about her.

“Oh, we shall do famously!” she cried. “Said I not all Paris should come?”

But Leonie slipped away, escaping from dancing-masters and dressmakers alike, and stole into the library where the Duke was usually to be found. She stood in the doorway regarding him wistfully. He looked up, laid down his quill, and stretched out a hand to her.

“Well, ma fille?”

She ran to him, and sank on to her knees beside his chair.

“Monseigneur, it frightens me.”

He stroked her bright curls caressingly.

“What frightens you, child?”

She made a comprehensive gesture.

“This—all of it! There are so many grand people coming, and everyone is so busy. I myself have no time to talk to you, Monseigneur.”

“You do not like it, child?”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Ah, quant r ca——! It excites me, Monseigneur, and—and yes, I like it very well. But it is as it was at Versailles. You remember I lost you. It was so big and brilliant.”

“Child——” He looked down into her eyes. “I am always here.” He smiled a little. “I think, infant, it is I shall be in danger of losing you when you are launched into the world. You will no longer wish to sit with me then.”

She shook her head vehemently.

“Always, always! Voyons, Monseigneur, I am going round and round in all this gaiety that comes to me, and for a little while I like it. But always I want to run away to you. Then I am safe, and —and things do not bewilder me. You see?”

“Perfectly,” said his Grace. “I shall not fail you, infant.”

“No, Monseigneur.” She nestled her hand in his, and gave a tiny sigh. “Why do you do all this for me?”

“I have many reasons, infant. You will not bother your head with them.”

“No, Monseigneur,” she said again, obediently. “It is very far away now, that time with Jean and Charlotte.”

“I desire you will forget it, ma mie. It was an evil dream no more.”

“Bien, Monseigneur.” She rested her head against his arm, and stayed so a long time.

That very evening Davenant arrived, and was told that the Duke was at dinner. He gave his greatcoat and hat to a lackey, and waving the man aside went alone to the dining-room, whence a babel of talk came.

The long room was lit by candles that stood in gold clusters on the table. Silver winked, and cut glass, and the mellow light was thrown over all. At the foot of the table my Lady Fanny sat, with Marling on her right, hot in argument with Rupert, opposite. Beside Marling was Leonie, dressed in dull yellow gold, and old lace. She was saying something to his Grace, at the head of the table, as Davenant came in, but she looked up at the sound of the opening door and suddenly clapped her hands.