“And during his absence he takes his sweetheart from him?”
“Yes; and, will you believe it? the silly fellow, instead of thanking the king, is making himself miserable.”
“What! thank the king for depriving him of the woman he loves! Really, sire, yours is a most ungallant speech.”
“But, pray understand me. If she whom the king had run off with was either a Miss Grafton or a Miss Stewart, I should not be of his opinion; nay, I should even think him not half wretched enough; but she is a little, thin, lame thing. Deuce take such fidelity as that! Surely, one can hardly understand how a man can refuse a girl who is rich for one who is poverty itself—a girl who loves him for one who deceives and betrays him.”
“Do you think that Mary seriously wishes to please the vicomte, sire?”
“I do, indeed.”
“Very good! the vicomte will settle down in England, for Mary has a clear head, and when she fixes her mind upon anything, she does so thoroughly.”
“Take care, my dear Miss Stewart; if the vicomte has any idea of adopting our country, he has not long to do so, for it was only the day before yesterday that he again asked me for permission to leave.”
“Which you refused him, I suppose?”
“I should think so, indeed; my royal brother is far too anxious for his absence; and, for myself, my amour propre is enlisted on his side, for I will never have it said that I had held out as a bait to this young man the noblest and gentlest creature in England—”