"And such a legion of people to see," said Vaura; "there is no place like Paris for enchaining one, and causing one to love one's chains."
"Look, quick," cried Lady Esmondet, hurriedly, "some one; is that Captain Trevalyon over there, evidently looking for some one, or is it his spirit?"
"It is he in the flesh; and looking anything but spirituel," said Vaura as she thought, "Yes, she would know him anywhere; her knight; so different to any other man she meets."
Yes, Vaura, so we all think when our king comes; beware, guard your heart, if you would not yield to this fascinating man who slays at will.
"Stay, foolish heart," thought on Vaura, "you are even now feeling less interest in Roland, who would die for you; fill thy whole being with a careless gaiety, and leave no room for a softer feeling to master thee; remember the 'hidden wife,' and even should she not exist, remember hearts are his game."
"Ah, the dear fellow sees us, and is pushing his way towards us," said
Lady Esmondet.
"The dear fellow," said Douglas. "that's the way all you ladies speak of Trevalyon, lucky fellow."
"And he, from what I hear, takes their homage as his right," said
Bertram.
"Oh! yes, as coolly as possible," said Vaura, gayly; "he's a bit of philosopher, you know; I remember I used to wonder if he had feelings like common mortals, and if all his loves were platonic; I vow I have a great notion to become a disciple of Plato myself; 'twould save one a world of heart-ache."
"Treason, treason," laughed Douglas; "better be a follower of
Epicurus."