Monsieur de Beuvre called Bois-Doré away, to show him some trees that he had recently set out, and D'Alvimar took advantage of the interruption to ask Lauriane if Monsieur de Bois-Doré had intended to make sport of him.
"By no means," she replied; "you must know that our dear marquis's favorite food is D'Urfé's romance, and he almost knows it by heart."
"How does he reconcile this taste for a noble passion with the tastes of the old court?"
"That is a very simple matter. When our friend was young, he loved all the ladies, so they say. As he grew older, his heart grew cold; but he thinks that he conceals that fact, as he thinks that he conceals his wrinkles, by pretending to have been converted to the superior virtue of noble sentiments by the example of the heroes of Astrée. So that, to excuse himself for not paying court to any fair lady, he boasts that he is faithful to a single one, whom he never names, whom no one ever has seen or ever will see, for the excellent reason that she exists only in his imagination."
"Is it possible that at his age he still feels bound to pretend to be in love?"
"He must do so, since he wishes to pass for a young man. If he were willing to admit that all women had become equally indifferent to him, why should he take the trouble to smear his face and to wear false hair?"
"So in your opinion it is not possible to be young without being enamored of some woman?"
"Oh! I know nothing about it," replied Madame de Beuvre gayly; "I have had no experience and I know nothing of men's hearts. But I sometimes hear it said that such is the fact, and Monsieur de Bois-Doré seems to be convinced of it. What is your own opinion thereon, messire?"
"It seems to me," said D'Alvimar, who was curious to know the young woman's ideas, "that one can live a long while on a past love, awaiting a love to come."
She made no reply, but looked up at the sky with her lovely blue eyes.