“Why not take counsel of the Duchess? She is a true friend of yours, Gabrielle, and a good woman.”
“It is a good thought. I will go to her to-day. I would give half my wealth to do what he proposes—to have a voice even for no more than a few short years in governing the people. I could do so much good.”
“Would he keep his word, think you? I do not trust him. Truth and honour are not counted among his parts.”
“You are suspicious. Why?”
“To begin with, he is a man,” and Lucette nodded her head and stamped her foot petulantly.
“Not always a quick path to your disfavour, coz,” said Gabrielle with a smile. “Denys is a man.”
“Denys has a head of wood,” said Lucette, lapsing into her own wrongs for a moment.
“Seeing the infinite uses to which we turn wood, I know not why we always liken it to stupidity. Whatever our good Denys’ head may be, his heart is staunch and true.”
“We are not speaking of Denys but of the Duke, who has neither wooden head nor staunch heart—unless it be staunch to some cruel and treacherous purpose for his own game.”
“I fear there is truth in your words; yet he spoke me fairly.”