The young girl made a low reverence, and with one of her disdainful smiles lurking in her charming eyes and mouth withdrew. 'Who is that girl?' asked the Marquis, with considerable interest. 'My attendant,' replied the Countess briefly. 'So I perceive, madame; is she a Parisian? 'No--a provincial.' 'A provincial!' 'Why this surprise, M. le Marquis?' 'Her air is queenly. I never saw hands more divinely formed. Her birth must be above her station.' 'Poor Nicola! she would be quite overwhelmed if she heard you; it would turn the poor girl's head. But, Marquis, what of all this?' 'Merely that she is even worthy to be your attendant,' replied the politic captain of cuirassiers, as he kissed the hand of Clara. 'You are very inquisitive, Marquis,' said she, giving him a pat on the mouth with her feather fan; 'I can assure you that she is only a poor girl consigned to my care--the daughter of a brave soldier who fought at the battle of Prague.' 'When our present enemy, the Duke of Lorraine, commanded the Imperialists.' 'Lorraine?' murmured the Countess, with some confusion. 'Yes--he did command there.' 'And the cowardly Elector Guelph was defeated,' added the Marquis, with a smile. Madame d'Amboise gave him a furtive and uneasy glance, and then turned away. He gazed at her broadly in turn, with a smile which said plainly. 'Here is a _secret--a mystery_, which I cannot fathom.' To change the subject, she said, in her playful way, 'Were you ever really in love, Marquis?' 'Your invariable query--yes, often,' said Gordon, with a smile. 'Indeed!' 'But never with more than one woman at a time, madame; be assured that no one can love either a place, a woman, or aught else very long--a gay woman least of all, perhaps.' 'Mon Dieu, Marquis, you become more and more French every day.' Gordon seemed to be still reflecting; but he turned suddenly to me, and said, 'Mr. Blane, you are about six feet high I think.' 'I am only five feet ten inches, my Lord.' 'Bravo, you are just the height for a cuirassier of the guard, and shall be one. We require but two more to complete our hundred men-at-arms; and I expect the Viscount Dundrennan and Sir Quentin Home daily from Scotland. You lodge--' 'With Maître Pierre Omelette, at the Golden Fleur-de-lis.' 'Ah--in the Rue d'Ecosse--the name attracted you to that street I presume.' 'Yes, Marquis.' He smiled and patted me kindly on the shoulder. 'On riding back to the Louvre, I shall mention your name to Patrick Gordon our Marechal de Logis; he will make all the necessary arrangements, after which, you will be a chevalier of the Scottish guard--farewell; Madame la Comtesse adieu; I hope to see you in Paris soon--we have not had much of the sun there lately.' 'Antoine, show out M. le Marquis,' said she, giving Gordon her beautiful hand to kiss.