Part 21 (2/2)
”Shall you be down to breakfast, Comtesse?” he asked me.
”Oh yes,” I said, ”These people would never understand. They would think I was being deliberately rude if I breakfasted in my room.”
”At nine o'clock, then?”
”Yes.”
”Lend me your La Rochefoucauld to read to-night?” he asked.
”With pleasure. I will have it sent to your room.”
”No, let me get it from your mustard boudoir myself. I shall be coming up, probably, to change into a smoking-coat, and my room is down that way, you know.”
”Very well.”
So we said good-night.
Half an hour afterwards, I was standing by my sitting-room fire when Antony came into the room. He leaned on the mantel-piece beside me and looked down into my face.
”When will you come over to Dane Mount, Comtesse? I want to show you _my_ great-great-grandmother. She was yours, too, by-the-way,” he said.
”When will you ask us?”
”In about a fortnight. I have to run about Norfolk until then. Will you come some time near the 4th of November?”
”I shall have to ask Augustus, but I dare say we can.”
He frowned slightly at the mention of Augustus.
”Of course. Well, I will not have a party, only some one to talk to--your husband. The ancestors won't interest him, probably.”
”Oh! Do ask Lady Tilchester,” I said. ”I love her.”
He bent down suddenly to look at the Dresden clock.
”No, I don't think so. She will be entertaining herself just then,” he said, ”and probably could not get away. But leave it to me, I promise to arrange that Augustus shall not be bored.”
He picked up La Rochefoucauld and opened it.
”I see you have marked some of the _maximes_.”
”No. Grandmamma and the Marquis must have done that. Look, they are all of the most witty and cynical that are pencilled. I can hear them talking when I read them. That is just how they spoke to one another.”
He read aloud:
”'_C'est une grande folie de vouloir etre sage tout seul_!' Don't be '_sage tout seul_,' Comtesse. Let me keep you company in your _sagesse_,” he said.
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