Again victorious at Nordlingen, the Duc d’Enghien, now Prince de Condé, for his father was now dead, returned to Paris—but not to Ninon. She had given great offence to his family by permitting de la Rochefoucauld and Madame de Longueville to meet at her house, and Condé sternly reproached her for the indiscretion; hence the tie between them was broken—perhaps merely a little sooner than otherwise; for the distinction of winning the admiration of the hero of the hour had played for Ninon a very powerful part in the liaison. And after all, she preferred to receive homage more than to offer it; for though she liked to ruffle it in masculine attire, she was a very woman; and taking her heart back again, she permitted it to be captured by the Marquis de Villarceaux, who had sued for long past. Villarceaux was handsome and agreeable, but he had a serious defect in Ninon’s eyes: he was fair, and a fat man or a fair man she ordinarily found detestable. Still he was eloquent, and she allowed herself to be persuaded to go and rusticate with him in the Vexin, as the guest of a friend of the Marquis, Monsieur de Vicariville. This gentleman found great pleasure in discoursing on philosophical themes with Ninon, while Monsieur Villarceaux went out to amuse himself in the neighbourhood, flitting from flower to flower, as ready to converse with the maids as with the mistress.
In the course of a few days, visitors arrived at the château. One of them was the Chevalier Villars Orondate, afterwards ambassador to Spain, a man full of originality and humour. During his stay, he rendered his host a signal service by the exercise of his quaint wit and ingenuity. Monsieur de Vicariville’s château was reached by a long, noble avenue, whose perspective would have been incomparable, but for the intrusion of a miserable tumbledown cottage just about midway.
Large sums had been offered when the avenue was made, to its owner, whose name was Jérome, to sell his small holding; but he flatly refused. His father had built the cottage, he had been born in it, and desired to die in it when his time came, continuing meanwhile to follow in it his trade, which was a tailor’s; and the eyesore had to be left.
Orondate asked his host what he would give him if he got the cottage removed within a week’s time.
“With Jérome’s consent, of course?” laughed Vicariville.
“That would not be required.”
“I would give you a hundred louis, gladly.”
“Money? For shame! It is for glory’s sake I would go to work—or at all events for a kiss from Mademoiselle.”
Villarceaux demurred at this; but Ninon cheerfully agreed; and going in search of the tailor, Orondate told him he wanted a handsome suit made for Monsieur de Villarceaux, who was going to Court with him. Was he capable of fulfilling the order? Certainly, Jérome was as able to do it as the grandest tailor in Paris.