"I do not understand," said Mme. de Montespan with a frown. "Pray explain."
"I'll do even more than that, Madame la Marquise," retorted Lord Rochester as he stepped a little to one side and disclosed the person of my lord of Stowmaries. "I will with your permission present to you my friend the Earl of Stowmaries and Rivaulx, the only Earl of Stowmaries whom I or His Majesty the King of England would ever acknowledge as such."
The Marquise looked very bewildered, her great violet-hued eyes opened wide and wandered in puzzlement from the face of Lord Rochester to that of his friend.
"The only Earl of Stowmaries!" she exclaimed in astonishment. "I vow milor that you have vastly puzzled me. Then who was that handsome young milor who just now swore to love the tailor's daughter, the while the hearts of two Duchesses, and one other Marquise besides myself were pining for his glance."
My lord of Rochester, however, kept Madame on the tenter-hooks of expectation, whilst he affected the elaborate presentation of his friend which the etiquette of the time demanded. He introduced my lord of Stowmaries to Madame la Marquise de Montespan, and performed a like service for Sir John Ayloffe. Then only did he partly satisfy Madame's curiosity.
"The young reprobate," he said airily, "whom the most beautiful Marquise in Christendom has honoured with a glance of her Myosotis eyes is—well! just a young reprobate, whom my lord of Stowmaries here is paying handsomely to take an unwelcome bride from off his shoulders. My lord of Stowmaries was seven years old when he wedded the tailor's daughter—now he has other matrimonial views—also a handsome cousin who was not averse to stepping into his shoes for this occasion which we have all witnessed to-day. He'll be well paid—neither bride nor bridegroom will have much to complain of—the bridegroom was a wastrel ere my lord of Stowmaries proposed this adventure—and the bride is only a tailor's daughter. She will have a handsome husband, if Michael Kestyon chooses to acknowledge her—if not there is always the nunnery handy for those saintly women like herself who have made a temporary if not wholly voluntary diversion from the strict paths of decorum and virtue. Et puis voila!"
Mme. de Montespan had listened attentively to this tale so cynically told; her friends, too, had closed in round her. Every one was vastly interested and I assure you not the least in the world shocked. The Court of le Roi Soleil abounded in such adventures, the convents of France were filled with the grief-stricken victims of the dissolute idlers of the day. Lord Rochester's story evoked nothing but amusement, and Lord Stowmaries at once became the centre of an admiring little crowd.
"But par ma foi!" commented Madame with a sigh not altogether free from envy, "you English gentlemen are mighty blackguards!"
"We do our best, Madame," rejoined Rochester lightly, "to emulate our confrères in France."
"His Majesty shall hear of your gallantries this very night. I pray you, Lord Rochester, do not leave us yet, nor you, my lord of Stowmaries, nor you, Sir Ayloffe. His Majesty would delight in your company. He so loves a bold adventure. And I am much mistaken he'll wish to see our handsome young reprobate, too—Michael Kestyon, did you say?" she added, prettily mispronouncing the English vowels, "'tis an ugly name—but oh! he hath fine eyes and a manly bearing—and did he really do it for money?"