"What nonsense you people do talk," said Bertram, in mock reproof, "and neither of you mean a word of what you say. I now prophesy; that out of revenge, Cupid will wound your large heart, Miss Vernon, and you will give up to some thrice fortunate man; as for you, Douglas I prophesy many a bumping heart-ache."
"And how long, oh prophet, do you give us of freedom; how long before our chains are forged?" enquired Vaura, jestingly.
"Ere the chill of winter is felt in our land," Bertram answered in mock earnestness.
"And the cry of the farmer is heard, as he sees the black frost on the spring wheat," laughed Douglas.
"Delighted to see you, Lady Esmondet," said Trevalyon, taking off his hat and shaking hands; "and you also, Miss Vernon, it is more than ages since I have had any more than a glimpse at you. Allow me to welcome you all to fair Paris; Colonel Haughton assigned me the very pleasant role of attendant cavalier during your stay here, as also body guard to your royal highnesses on your journey to the Immortal city, whither I too am bound; why, Douglas, you here, and wherefore? I thought you had not yet deserted your winged loves at Atholdale; any good shooting this season?"
"Yes, pretty fair," answered Douglas, disappointed at the way things were turning out, and wishing Trevalyon at South Africa, or any where, so he was not by Vaura's side. He knew Trevalyon to be a man of cultivated intellect, with a fascination of manner all women succumbed to, with fully ten years more experience of life than his own, and with a nice knowledge of all types of women. He knew him to be the dread of all mothers with marriageable daughters, both for themselves as disturbing their calm resignation as to what husband Fate had given them, as also the sad havoc he made among their brood; of how they plumed their feathers at his coming and drooped them at his going, causing many an eligible suitor to retire from the field. Society wondered that Trevalyon did not range himself, seeing so many beautiful women his conquests. He shrugged his shoulders when chaffed by his men friends as to his flirtations and cruelty, and would say:
"A slave of the ring is not a role I have any wish to play; at all events none of the pretty women I have flirted with so far have had the power to hold me as her own. And until I meet a woman who can hold me, and keep me from a wish to rove, I shall keep my freedom."
Then he would laugh and say: "After all, mon ami, I am not as cruel, cold, or flirting as yourself. Your motto after as well as before marriage is: Si l'amour a des ailes n'est-ce pas pour voltiger. Better to act on that principle prior to (as you say I do), than after marriage, as I know you all do; better not put the shackles on until one meets a woman who will cause one not to feel them. As to your charge of heartlessness against me, trust me; you say I know them; under the amiable exterior of some of the most gentle-voiced and loveliest, there throbs a cruel heartlessness.
"After all there is a good deal of the feline in woman, witness the many marriages, ninety-nine out of every hundred are made by our fashionable women, for money or position? Yes, they like the warm corner, it matters not who gives it; and the man who loves them, and whom they love—in a way, may eat his heart out alone; for no, they will not listen to his pleadings, he has no gold. And they marry a man to whom they are perfectly indifferent, not so to his belongings, these they love with all the love of their feline hearts. No, I am not cruel, I only amuse myself as you do, and in the way each likes best."
He acknowledges there must be women who are heroines, and perhaps he may yet meet them, but as yet, he "only knows in God's world there must be women men might worship."