But presently people began to take their leave, and at last they were alone again in the hall, tired but triumphant.
Rupert yawned prodigiously.
“Lord, what an evening? Burgundy, Hugh?” He poured out several glasses. “Fan, you’ve torn your lace.”
Fanny sank into a chair.
“My dear, I do not care if ’tis in ribbons. Leonie, my pet, you look worn out! Oh, my poor Edward, you did nobly with the dowagers!”
“Ah yes!” said his Grace. “I have to thank you, Edward. You were quite untiring. Infant, can you still hold your eyes open?”
“Yes, Monseigneur. Oh, madame, M. le Prince said that my dress was ravishing!”
“Ay——” Rupert shook his head at her. “I’d give something to know what you’ve been at this night, rogue! Did old Richelieu make love to you?”
“Oh no!” Leonie was surprised. “Why, he is quite an old man!”
“Alas, poor Armand!” said his Grace. “Don’t tell him so, infant, I implore you.”
“Nor anyone, my love,” said her ladyship. “It would fly round Paris! He would be so chagrined!”
“Well, who did make love to you?” asked Rupert. “Besides Conde.”
“He didn’t, Rupert! No one did.” Leonie looked round innocently. “He only said I was a Fairy Princess. Yes, and he said that about my eyes.”
“If that’s not making——” Rupert encountered a glance from his brother, and broke off. “Oh, ay! I’m dumb, never fear!”
“Monseigneur,” Leonie said. “I kept thinking it was a dream! If they knew I had been a page I do not think they would have been so kind to me. They would have thought I was not enough respectable!”
CHAPTER XXVI
After the ball invitations came swiftly to the Hotel Avon. More than one lady begged that Miladi Fanny would forgive the shortness of the notice and honour her on such-and-such a night, at ball, or rout, or card-party. Fanny went carefully through the pile of little cards, and was triumphant.
“My dearest Justin!” she cried. “We shall not be above three nights at home, I give you my word! Here is a card from Madame du Deffand, for next month—a soiree. This is from the Comtesse de Meuilly—a ball. And here we have one from my dear Madame de Follemartin, for Saturday! And this one——”
“Spare us, Fanny!” said his Grace. “Accept and decline as you will, but let us have no lists. Infant, what have you there?”
Leonie had come dancing in with a bouquet in her hand, to which a card was attached.
“Monseigneur, are they not pretty? They come from the Prince de Conde. I think he is very kind to me!”
Fanny looked at her brother.
“So we begin,” she said. “Where are we like to end, I wonder?”
“I shall end in a debtor’s prison, never fear!” said Rupert, from the depths of an arm-chair. “Two hundred cool guineas last night, and——”
“Rupert, it’s wanton!” exclaimed Marling. “Why do you play so high?”
Rupert deigned no reply, deeming the question beneath contempt. It was Davenant who filled the breach.
“I believe it’s in the family,” he said. “Rupert, of course, is a scamp.”
“Oh no!” said Leonie. “He is very silly, but he is not a scamp! Monseigneur, tell me what I am to wear at Versailles to-morrow! Madame says blue, but I want to wear my white dress again.”
“No, infant. To wear the same frock twice running would create almost a scandal. You shall wear gold, and dull yellow, and the sapphires I once gave you. And your hair shall be unpowdered.”
“Oh?” said my lady. “Why, Justin?”
Hugh walked to the fireplace.
“Is it, Justin, because Titian hair has always been one of your ruling passions?”
“Exactly,” bowed his Grace. “What an excellent memory you have, my dear!”
“I don’t understand,” complained Fanny. “What do you mean?”
“I am not quite sure,” said Avon. “I suggest you ask Hugh. He is omniscient.”
“Now you are being disagreeable!” Fanny pouted. “Dull yellow—ay, ’twill do. Leonie, my love, we must order a petticoat of gold net from Cerise; they are quite the rage now, I hear.” She became absorbed in modes and fashions.
She and Avon and Rupert accompanied Leonie to Versailles. Marling and Davenant were alike in their distaste for courts, and they refused to join the party, preferring to spend a quiet evening playing at piquet, and perusing the latest copy of the
So Leonie and her escort left them to their devices, and sped away in the light coach to Versailles. The drive provoked in Leonie a reminiscent mood. She sat beside Lady Fanny, whose skirts billowed about her, and addressed herself to the Duke, opposite.
“Monseigneur, do you remember that when we went to Versailles before you gave me this chain?” She touched the sapphires that lay across her white breast.
“I do, infant. I also remember that on our return you went to sleep, and would not wake up.”
“Yes, that is true,” she nodded. “It seems very strange to be going to court again, like this!” She indicated her petticoats, and spread out her fan. “M. le Prince was at Madame de Cacheron’s party last night, Monseigneur.”
“So I have heard,” said Avon, who had not been present.
“And danced twice with the chit!” said my lady. “’Twas positively unseemly!”
“Ay, so it was,” agreed Rupert. “If you were to ask me I should say he came to see Leonie and none other.”
“Yes, he did,” said Leonie ingenuously. “He told me so. I like him.”
Rupert looked at her severely.
“Well, you ought not to sit with him talking of God knows what,” he said magisterially. “When I wanted to lead you out you were nowhere to be found.”
Leonie pulled a face at him.
“You are talking like that because you have all your best clothes on,” she told him. “They make you feel grand, and very important. I know!”
Rupert burst out laughing.
“Faith, that’s good! But I’ll not deny this is a devilish fine coat.” He regarded his rich claret-coloured sleeve with some affection.
“It is not so—so
“Why, child, I thought you had a dozen assignations made!” remarked her ladyship.
“Yes, madame, but I meant new people.”
“Oh, she’s insatiable!” murmured Rupert. “She’ll boast a wonderful collection of hearts before the month’s out, mark my words!”
“You will see the King, infant, and the Queen, and possibly the Dauphin,” said his Grace.
“And Madame de Pompadour. I want to see her, because I have heard that she is very beautiful.”
“Very,” said his Grace. “You will also see her favourite, de Stainville, and Monsieur, and the Comte d’Eu.”
“
When they had come to Versailles she went presently up the marble stairway, in Lady Fanny’s wake, to the Galerie des Glaces, and, looking about her, drew a deep breath.
“How I remember!” she said.
“For goodness’ sake, child, never say so!” begged Fanny. “You have never been here before. Let me hear no more of your recollections!”
“No, madame,” said Leonie abashed. “Oh, there is M. de La Valaye!”
La Valaye came to talk to them, and stole a curious glance at Leonie’s unpowdered head. Rupert slipped
