"I must have one court-suit, but I vow I'll take no more. Which shall it be, Henri—the peach-colored or the white satin? Speak, man!"
The Marquis, with an effort, raised his head. "Both. You will need the white one for your wedding."
Claude stared at his cousin for an instant, and his lips twitched with laughter. Then, with a sudden change of expression, he pulled from his breast, where it had lain all night, the letter that Maurepas had delivered to him. He had not read it since leaving the chapel.
"Owing to certain circumstances which of late have had the misfortune greatly to displease S.M., the King desires to inform Count Claude Vincent Armand Victor de Nesle de Mailly that the absence of the Count from the château and city of Versailles after the noon of Friday, January 22d, in this year of 1744, will be desirable to S.M.; and that after the first day of the month of February, Monsieur the Count, if he has not already crossed the line of the French Kingdom, would of necessity be placed under the escort of one of his Majesty's officers. The King wishes Monsieur the Count a delightful journey, and begs further to add that when monsieur shall desire to present Madame la Comtesse his wife to their Majesties at Versailles, his return to his present abode will be most pleasing to
"Louis R."
As Claude for the second time perused this curious letter his face darkened, and, at the last lines, flushed.
"I heard your 'au revoir' sent to his Majesty," observed Henri, "and, after I read the dismissal, I understood it. You will discover some pretty child in Madrid or Vienna. In six months you will be back again with her for presentation; and here she will quickly find some marquis or duke for cavalier, while you return again with your rashness to the little apartments."
The Marquis spoke these words by no means in raillery, but with such a tone of solemn prophecy that Claude turned a serious and questioning gaze upon his cousin. Then he shook his head.
"Do you, indeed, Henri, think so ill of me as that? Should I, by such a loveless bargain, dishonor myself and the woman who bore my name? What of the shame to me in bringing such a one, unprotected even by my affection, to this Court of Versailles, of all places on earth; to plunge her into the life that she would find here? You would run me through for a deed like that. Besides, I am going from here to no Court. I leave by post to-morrow for Flanders—Antwerp, or some seaport. And after, unless I travel in the Low Countries and up into Sweden, I have a mind to turn to strange places. Perhaps I shall sail for America."
"Ah, Claude, it is too far! Where wouldst thou go? To our colony of Louisiana, or the settlements of the South coast—the flower-land that is pestered with Spanish and English pirates? Be sane, my Claude. Remain nearer home. Surely some day you will return to us. Think, think of the homesickness. Without thee here, Claude, I—I—" Henri went no further. His voice had broken, and he suddenly hid his face in his hands and bent over the table.