“By the bye, I have not presented you to her yet. I 've had no opportunity; but now I shall do so at once.”
“Pray, tell me your cousin's name,” said I, anxious to say anything to conceal my confusion. “I 've only heard her name called 'La Rose de Provence.'”
“Yes, that was a silly fancy of Madame la Consulesse, because Marie is Provengale, But her name is De Rochfort,—at least her mother's name; for, by another caprice, she was forbidden by Bonaparte to bear her father's name. But this is rather a sore topic with me; let us change it. How did you like my friends the other evening? The abb, is agreeable, is he not?”
“Yes,” said I, hesitating somewhat; “but I am so unaccustomed to hear General Bonaparte discussed so freely—”
“That absurd Polytechnique!” interrupted De Beauvais. “How many a fine fellow has it spoiled with its ridiculous notions and foolish prejudices!”
“Come, come,” said I; “you must not call prejudices the attachment which I, and all who wear an epaulette, feel in our glorious chief. There, there! don't laugh, or you 'll provoke me; for if I, an alien, feel this, how should you, who are a Frenchman born, sympathize with such a proud career?”
“If you talk of sympathy, Burke, let me ask you. Have you ever heard speak of certain old families of these realms who have been driven forth and expatriated to seek a home among strangers,—themselves the descendants of the fairest chivalry of our land, the proud scions of Saint Louis? and has your sympathy never strayed across sea to mingle with their sorrows?” His voice trembled as he spoke, and a large tear filled his eye and tracked its way along his cheek, as the last word vibrated on his tongue; and then, as if suddenly remembering how far he had been carried away by momentary impulse, he added, in an altered voice, “But what have we to do with these things? Our road is yet to be travelled by either of us,—yours a fair path enough, if it only fulfil its early promise. The fortunate fellow that can win his grade while yet a schoolboy—”
“How came you to know—”
“Oh! I know more than that, Burke; and, believe me, if my foolish conduct the first day we met had led to anything disastrous, I should have passed a life of sorrow for it ever after. But we shall have time enough to talk over all these matters in the green alleys of Versailles, where I hope to see you before a week be over. Great events may happen ere long, too. Burke, you don't know it; but I can tell you, a war with England is at this moment on the eve of declaration.”
“Perhaps,” said I, somewhat piqued by the tone of superiority in which he had spoken for some minutes, and anxious to assume for myself a position which, I forgot, conferred no credit by the manner of its attainment, “I know more of that than you are aware of.”