THE ENIGMA OF THE LOCKET
THE ENIGMA OF THE LOCKET
I
LITTLE SATAN
Enguerrand de Joncelles—Monsieur le Vidame de Joncelles, as he preferred to be called—was new to courts. To the court of Whitehall, la cour de Witalle he had it, he was yet altogether a stranger.
From the noble monotony of Joncelles, the great poverty-stricken chateau which raised its pepper-box turrets above meagre apple orchards, a league south of Caen, to the excitement of the Louvre and Versailles; from the rigidity of the maternal rule at home (in her retirement, Madame de Joncelles, a confidant and friend of the late Queen Mother of France, had never compromised on matters of discipline, and had cherished theories on the education of young men) to complete emancipation—here had been steps high enough to upset the balance of any quick-blooded and good-looking youth of eighteen. But the little Vidame had found his feet, as the saying goes, with astonishing ease, as soon as the austere old lady, departing for a better world, left him to face this one by himself.