The Golden Dog [48]
But he would not have sat at his table an hour had he not known that he was connected with the nobility. The Count de Marville--"
"The Count de Marville!" interrupted the Lady de Tilly, whose politeness almost gave way. "Truly, a man is known by the company he keeps. No credit to any one to be connected with the Count de Marville."
Madame de Grandmaison felt rather subdued. She perceived that the Lady de Tilly was not favorably impressed towards the Intendant. But she tried again: "And then, my Lady, the Intendant is so powerful at Court. He was a particular friend of Madame d'Etioles before she was known at Court, and they say he managed her introduction to the King at the famous masked ball at the Hotel de Ville, when His Majesty threw his handkerchief at her, and she became first dame du palais and the Marquise de Pompadour. She has ever remained his firm friend, and in spite of all his enemies could do to prevent it His Majesty made him Intendant of New France."
"In spite of all the King's friends could do, you mean," replied the Lady de Tilly, in a tone the sound of which caught the ear of Amelie, and she knew her aunt was losing patience with her visitors. Lady de Tilly heard the name of the royal mistress with intense disgust, but her innate loyalty prevented her speaking disparagingly of the King. "We will not discuss the Court," said she, "nor the friendships of this Intendant. I can only pray his future may make amends for his past. I trust New France may not have as much reason as poor lost Acadia to lament the day of his coming to the Colonies."
The two lady visitors were not obtuse. They saw they had roused the susceptibilities--prejudices, they called them--of the Lady de Tilly. They rose, and smothering their disappointment under well- bred phrases, took most polite leave of the dignified old lady, who was heartily glad to be rid of them.
"The disagreeable old thing--to talk so of the Intendant!" exclaimed Madame Couillard, spitefully, "when her own nephew, and heir in the Seigniory of Tilly, is the Intendant's firmest friend and closest companion."
"Yes, she forgot about her own house; people always forget to look at home when they pass judgment upon their neighbors," replied Madame de Grandmaison. "But I am mistaken if she will be able to impress Le Gardeur de Repentigny with her uncharitable and unfashionable opinions of the Intendant. I hope the ball will be the greatest social success ever seen in the city, just to vex her and her niece, who is as proud and particular as she is herself."
Amelie de Repentigny had dressed herself to-day in a robe of soft muslin of Deccan, the gift of a relative in Pondicherry. It enveloped her exquisite form, without concealing the grace and lissomeness of her movements. A broad blue ribbon round her waist, and in her dark hair a blue flower, were all her adornments, except a chain and cross of gold, which lay upon her bosom, the rich gift of her brother, and often kissed with a silent prayer for his welfare and happiness. More than once, under the influence of some indefinable impulse, she rose and went to the mirror, comparing her features now with a portrait of herself taken as a young girl in the garb of a shepherdess of Provence. Her father used to like that picture of her, and to please him she often wore her hair in the fashion of Provence. She did so to-day. Why? The subtile thought in many Protean shapes played before her fancy, but she would not try to catch it--no! rather shyly avoided its examination.
She was quite restless, and sat down again in the deep recess of the window, watching the Place d'Armes for the appearance of her brother.
She gave a sudden start at last, as a couple of officers galloped in to the square and rode towards the great gate of the Chateau; one of them she instantly recognized as her brother, the other, a tall martial figure in full uniform, upon a fiery gray, she did not recognize, but she knew in her heart it could be no other than Colonel Philibert.
Amelie felt a thrill, almost painful
"The Count de Marville!" interrupted the Lady de Tilly, whose politeness almost gave way. "Truly, a man is known by the company he keeps. No credit to any one to be connected with the Count de Marville."
Madame de Grandmaison felt rather subdued. She perceived that the Lady de Tilly was not favorably impressed towards the Intendant. But she tried again: "And then, my Lady, the Intendant is so powerful at Court. He was a particular friend of Madame d'Etioles before she was known at Court, and they say he managed her introduction to the King at the famous masked ball at the Hotel de Ville, when His Majesty threw his handkerchief at her, and she became first dame du palais and the Marquise de Pompadour. She has ever remained his firm friend, and in spite of all his enemies could do to prevent it His Majesty made him Intendant of New France."
"In spite of all the King's friends could do, you mean," replied the Lady de Tilly, in a tone the sound of which caught the ear of Amelie, and she knew her aunt was losing patience with her visitors. Lady de Tilly heard the name of the royal mistress with intense disgust, but her innate loyalty prevented her speaking disparagingly of the King. "We will not discuss the Court," said she, "nor the friendships of this Intendant. I can only pray his future may make amends for his past. I trust New France may not have as much reason as poor lost Acadia to lament the day of his coming to the Colonies."
The two lady visitors were not obtuse. They saw they had roused the susceptibilities--prejudices, they called them--of the Lady de Tilly. They rose, and smothering their disappointment under well- bred phrases, took most polite leave of the dignified old lady, who was heartily glad to be rid of them.
"The disagreeable old thing--to talk so of the Intendant!" exclaimed Madame Couillard, spitefully, "when her own nephew, and heir in the Seigniory of Tilly, is the Intendant's firmest friend and closest companion."
"Yes, she forgot about her own house; people always forget to look at home when they pass judgment upon their neighbors," replied Madame de Grandmaison. "But I am mistaken if she will be able to impress Le Gardeur de Repentigny with her uncharitable and unfashionable opinions of the Intendant. I hope the ball will be the greatest social success ever seen in the city, just to vex her and her niece, who is as proud and particular as she is herself."
Amelie de Repentigny had dressed herself to-day in a robe of soft muslin of Deccan, the gift of a relative in Pondicherry. It enveloped her exquisite form, without concealing the grace and lissomeness of her movements. A broad blue ribbon round her waist, and in her dark hair a blue flower, were all her adornments, except a chain and cross of gold, which lay upon her bosom, the rich gift of her brother, and often kissed with a silent prayer for his welfare and happiness. More than once, under the influence of some indefinable impulse, she rose and went to the mirror, comparing her features now with a portrait of herself taken as a young girl in the garb of a shepherdess of Provence. Her father used to like that picture of her, and to please him she often wore her hair in the fashion of Provence. She did so to-day. Why? The subtile thought in many Protean shapes played before her fancy, but she would not try to catch it--no! rather shyly avoided its examination.
She was quite restless, and sat down again in the deep recess of the window, watching the Place d'Armes for the appearance of her brother.
She gave a sudden start at last, as a couple of officers galloped in to the square and rode towards the great gate of the Chateau; one of them she instantly recognized as her brother, the other, a tall martial figure in full uniform, upon a fiery gray, she did not recognize, but she knew in her heart it could be no other than Colonel Philibert.
Amelie felt a thrill, almost painful