"And my Mercedes," said Mario, leaping for joy, "will you give her beautiful dresses too, like Bellinde's?"
"Mercedes shall have beautiful dresses, dresses of gold and silver, if such is her whim. And that reminds me—Look you, my dear Jovelin, this woman is lovely, so it seems to me, and still young. Would you not think it well to allow her to resume the Moorish costume, which is very pretty, except the veil, which is altogether too Mohammedan? As the excellent creature is a sincere Christian now, and we live in a neighborhood where the common people never saw a Moor, that costume will offend nobody and will gratify our eyes. What is your wisdom's opinion?"
Lucilio's wisdom had much ado to reconcile the warm affection which the marquis really deserved with the feelings naturally aroused by his childishness. But, hopeless of correcting so old a child, reason advised him to make the best of him and to love him as he was.
The philosopher would have preferred that Mario should not be overwhelmed with splendor and finery at the outset of his new career, but rather that he should be told something of the new duties he had to fulfil. He found some consolation in the fact that the child was less intoxicated by the possession of all those things, than overjoyed and touched by the affection and endearments of which he found himself the object.
On the following day D'Alvimar, who had passed a sleepless night, requested through Bellinde, who obligingly acted as his nurse, permission to keep his room until afternoon.
The marquis paid him another brief visit, and was struck by the alteration of his features. He had had ghastly visions, under the spell of the sinister prophecies that had been hurled at him.
Daylight had finally revived hope in his heart, and he slept part of the day.
[XXVII]
The marquis took advantage of this respite to recur to the subject of dress.
He went up with Mario and Adamas to the vacant room on the fourth floor, that is to say, immediately over the Salle des Verdures.