So only she, Father John, and the dogs were present in the Dauphin's private apartment, study and playroom in one, when La Mothe and Villon entered. As is almost always the case, the room reflected many of the characteristics of its owner, and in its ordered disorder, its hints of studies, its litter of wooden swords and broken dog-whips, might be seen the boy who was almost man in gravity and yet still a child in a child's love of toys. Rising as the two were announced, his effort at dignity was sorely marred by the eager curiosity with which he eyed the linen bundle carried by La Mothe.
"So you are leaving Amboise, Monsieur La Mothe, and we will have no more games together."
"When I return, Monseigneur."
"And I hope that will be soon, though I don't know why you are going.
But, then, I never quite knew why you came at all."
"Nor I until to-day, but the reason is the very best in the world," answered La Mothe, and the boy, following his glance, caught the significance of the colour warming Ursula de Vesc's cheeks.
"So you have made up your quarrel, you two?"
"Never to quarrel again, Monseigneur."
"I hope so, but I don't believe it. Two people can't live together without quarrelling. Even I quarrel with Ursula at times. Monsieur La Mothe, will you please call me Charles, as she does? it is my wish."
"Monseigneur, you are very good."
"Not Monseigneur any more, then, and don't forget. It's all I have to give. Father John, who never saved my life or did anything for me, calls me Charles, so why not you who saved my life twice? Down, Charlot, down! leave Monsieur La Mothe's parcel alone. You are always pushing your nose where it is not wanted. What have you in that napkin, Monsieur La Mothe?"