Let not his summons
Be in vain;
—‘Enter, Sweet, bring thou
Sun or rain!’ ”
sang Marthe de la Vergne to the harpsichord in her light sweet voice. The strains floated through the open salon window to Valentine de Trélan as she sat outside in the September sunshine. The music changed:
“Should the King honour
My poor door;
—‘Take, Sire, my sword-arm
And my store!’
So spake my fathers