The air was warm and fragrant, full of the first sweet freshness of the summer. The light of the moon sifted softly through the haze that had fallen over the gardens and trembled upon each dewy blade and leaf. It was so peaceful and quiet!—so far removed from rancor and[25] hatred!—a night for fondness, gentleness, and all the soft confidences of a tenderness divine and all-excelling—a night for love!

[25]

This thought came to them both at the same moment—to Mistress Barbara with a sense of humiliation and anger, followed by the burst of passion she had struggled so long to control. She stopped in the middle of the garden-walk and turned on him:

“You!” she cried, immoderately. “You again! Has a lady no rights which a man, whatever he be, is bound to respect? Why do you pursue me? Listen to me, Monsieur Mornay. I hate you!—I hate you!—I hate you!” And then, overcome by the every excess of her emotion, she sank to the bench beside her. Monsieur Mornay stood at a distance and occupied himself with the laces at his sleeves.

To a Frenchman this was surely an ill-requiting of his delicate attentions.

“Madame,” he began, calmly, then paused.

“No, madame does not mean that.” He made no attempt to go nearer, but stood, his hand resting upon the hilt of his sword, his eyes,[26] dark and serious, looking quietly down at her.

[26]

She made no reply, but sat rigidly, her arm upon the back of the bench, the seat of which her skirts had completely covered. There was no indication of the turmoil that raged within her but the tapping of her silken shoe upon the graveled walk.

“How have I offended, madame?” he continued. “Is it a fault to admire? Is my tribute a sin? Is my service a crime? Have I not the right of any other of your poor prisoners—to do you honor from afar?”

“From afar?” she asked, coldly satirical.

Mornay shrugged his shoulders with a pretty gesture.

“Ma foi, madame. My mind cannot imagine a greater distance between us—”

“Monsieur’s imagination is not without limits,” she interrupted; and then, after a pause, “In England a lady is allowed the privilege of choosing her own following.”

 Prev. P 13/140 next