it … the life with the good husband whom you so regretted you must leave behind.”
And I found myself telling him.
He listened very carefully as I, who was usually restrained told him of my wonderful father who had been killed in a duel, and how, ever since, we had lived quietly in the country and that I had married the companion of my childhood as everybody had expected and hoped I would.
“Do you always do what is expected of you?” he asked.
“Yes … I think perhaps I do.”
“That must please them all very much … but the main thing is that you should be pleased, is it not?”
“It has all worked out very well and happily for me,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled at me in a manner I did not understand and vaguely felt that it was better so.
“And you?” I said. “What of you?”
“Ah, like you I doubtless do what is expected of me. Alas, it is not always the good thing that is expected.”
“And your home is in France. What part?”
“My home is in the country—a small place a few leagues from Paris—but I spend most of my time in Paris and am chiefly at court.”
“You serve the king.”
“We of the court of France do not so much serve the king as the king’s mistress. The lady is the mistress of us all—by which I mean that we must obey her whims if we would remain in favor … not, of course, that we are the lady’s lovers. The king is enough for her. She is by no means as lusty as your Jessie.”
“Who is this lady?”
“Jeanne Antoinette Poisson … otherwise the Marquise de Pompadour.” He spoke with a certain amount of bitterness, which I was quick to detect.
“I gather that you do not like the lady overmuch.”
“One does not like the Pompadour … one merely does not offend her.”
“I am surprised. You do not appear to me to be a meek man, to obey someone … someone of whom you obviously do not approve.”
“I have a great desire to hold my place at court. I should not wish to be banished from a way of life which I find most interesting.”
“The court, you mean.”
“The affairs of the country,” he said, smiling at me.
“So you are cautious.”
“When there is need to be, yes. Mind you, I am of the nature to like to take a risk now and then.”
“I hope you are not a gambler,” I said, and suddenly I thought of my father’s being carried into the house mortally wounded.
He put his hand over mind.
“You look really concerned,” he said.
“No … of course not. It is no business of mine.” I added: “Are you here on a diplomatic mission?”
“I am here,” he said, “because it may be some time before I shall get an opportunity of being here again. If there is war between our countries …”
“War!”
“It’s blowing up, you know. Then traffic is difficult.”
“What war?”
“Perhaps it won’t happen, but Frederick of Prussia is getting aggressive and Maria Theresa of Austria wants to get Silesia from him.”
“Why should that concern us … your country and mine?”
“We the French have great friendship with Maria Theresa, and your King George is more German that English. You can be sure he will side with Frederick. Then we have a war and our countries will be enemies.”
“I believe you are here on some secret mission,” I said.
“Ah, I am arousing your interest at last.”
“Are you … here on some secret matter?”
“I am going to say yes because then you will think how mysterious I am … how interesting.”
“But if it is not so?”
“If it were you would not expect me to tell you, would you?” He changed the subject abruptly. “You may have to come back here the day after tomorrow. I am going to drive you.”
“Oh … thank you.”
Then he said: “We shall put our heads together and find out how we get the papers signed.”
“Are you thinking that my business is almost as devious as yours?”
“Exactly that. You see why we are drawn together. Birds of a feather … is that what you
And I found myself telling him.
He listened very carefully as I, who was usually restrained told him of my wonderful father who had been killed in a duel, and how, ever since, we had lived quietly in the country and that I had married the companion of my childhood as everybody had expected and hoped I would.
“Do you always do what is expected of you?” he asked.
“Yes … I think perhaps I do.”
“That must please them all very much … but the main thing is that you should be pleased, is it not?”
“It has all worked out very well and happily for me,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows and smiled at me in a manner I did not understand and vaguely felt that it was better so.
“And you?” I said. “What of you?”
“Ah, like you I doubtless do what is expected of me. Alas, it is not always the good thing that is expected.”
“And your home is in France. What part?”
“My home is in the country—a small place a few leagues from Paris—but I spend most of my time in Paris and am chiefly at court.”
“You serve the king.”
“We of the court of France do not so much serve the king as the king’s mistress. The lady is the mistress of us all—by which I mean that we must obey her whims if we would remain in favor … not, of course, that we are the lady’s lovers. The king is enough for her. She is by no means as lusty as your Jessie.”
“Who is this lady?”
“Jeanne Antoinette Poisson … otherwise the Marquise de Pompadour.” He spoke with a certain amount of bitterness, which I was quick to detect.
“I gather that you do not like the lady overmuch.”
“One does not like the Pompadour … one merely does not offend her.”
“I am surprised. You do not appear to me to be a meek man, to obey someone … someone of whom you obviously do not approve.”
“I have a great desire to hold my place at court. I should not wish to be banished from a way of life which I find most interesting.”
“The court, you mean.”
“The affairs of the country,” he said, smiling at me.
“So you are cautious.”
“When there is need to be, yes. Mind you, I am of the nature to like to take a risk now and then.”
“I hope you are not a gambler,” I said, and suddenly I thought of my father’s being carried into the house mortally wounded.
He put his hand over mind.
“You look really concerned,” he said.
“No … of course not. It is no business of mine.” I added: “Are you here on a diplomatic mission?”
“I am here,” he said, “because it may be some time before I shall get an opportunity of being here again. If there is war between our countries …”
“War!”
“It’s blowing up, you know. Then traffic is difficult.”
“What war?”
“Perhaps it won’t happen, but Frederick of Prussia is getting aggressive and Maria Theresa of Austria wants to get Silesia from him.”
“Why should that concern us … your country and mine?”
“We the French have great friendship with Maria Theresa, and your King George is more German that English. You can be sure he will side with Frederick. Then we have a war and our countries will be enemies.”
“I believe you are here on some secret mission,” I said.
“Ah, I am arousing your interest at last.”
“Are you … here on some secret matter?”
“I am going to say yes because then you will think how mysterious I am … how interesting.”
“But if it is not so?”
“If it were you would not expect me to tell you, would you?” He changed the subject abruptly. “You may have to come back here the day after tomorrow. I am going to drive you.”
“Oh … thank you.”
Then he said: “We shall put our heads together and find out how we get the papers signed.”
“Are you thinking that my business is almost as devious as yours?”
“Exactly that. You see why we are drawn together. Birds of a feather … is that what you
Similar Books
