"The love of children is the woman's part; man plays it but ill. Perhaps there were some things which I failed to learn." Love his son? A grim smile played over his purple lips. Why, he had ceased even to love himself!
To her eyes the smile resembled a spasm of pain. "Does your head ache?" she asked. She put her arm under his head and placed it more comfortably on the pillow.
"Yes, my head is always aching. I have not lived well, and nature is claiming her tithes." He closed his eyes, surrendering to the restful touch of the cool palm. By and by he slept; and she sat there watching till morning merged into drowsy noon. The agony was begun. And while he slept the mask of calm left her face, revealing the soul. From time to time she raised her eyes toward heaven, and continually her lips moved in prayer.
"Monsieur Paul," said Breton gaily, "do we return to France on the Henri IV?"
"No, lad; nor on many a ship to come and go."
Breton's heart contracted. "But Monsieur le Marquis … ?"
"Will return alone. Go with him, lad; you are homesick. Go and marry old Martin's daughter, and be happy. It would be wrong for me to rob you of your youth's right."
"But you, Monsieur?"
"I shall remain here. I have my time to serve. After that, France, maybe … or become a grand seigneur."
The Chevalier put on his hat. He had an idle hour.