The holy Patriarch Heraclius, and the Lord Roger, Master of the Temple, have set forth on a pilgrimage to the shrines of the West. They intend to visit Compostella and Canterbury, amongst others.
Count Raymond has been behaving rather better lately—that is, we have not seen quite so much of him.
A letter from Alix came to hand last week; but there is nothing of interest in it, except that every one is well. She says her child begins to walk, and can already prattle fluently: which called forth a growl from Amaury, who wants to know why every body's children thrive but his. It is not true, for little Héloïse is really an engaging child, and has excellent health.
"Ah!—but then," says Guy, aside to me, with arched eyebrows, "she is only a girl, poor little good-for-nothing!"
I know Guy does not think so, for he is devoted to his little Agnes; and Héloïse is certainly the prettier child. But neither of them is equal to the little King, who is a most beautiful boy, and has the quaintest sayings ever heard from a child.
There, now! Did any body ever see any thing like these men?
Messire Tristan set forth yesterday morning; and what should he say to Guy (who told me, with his eyes full of fun) but—
"Damoiselle Elaine will find out that it does not do to trifle with a man's heart. She will doubtless be angry at my defection; but I have borne long enough with her caprice, and have now transferred my affections to one who can be truer!"
Was ever mortal creature so misrepresented? Why, the man must have thought I did not mean what I said! My caprice, indeed! Trifle with a man's heart! And as if affection could be transferred at will from one person to another!
Guy seemed excessively amused with my exclamations.