The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 1 (of 3)Wingfield, Lewis
History
The Maid of Honour: A Tale of the Dark Days of France. Vol. 1 (of 3)
Wingfield, Lewis
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
During the discussions on the subject, the abbe would jokingly wave
his whip at the chevalier, whose sleek figure jogged behind. "There is
a case in point," he laughed. "Phebus's will is completely subservient
to mine, and he knows it. Tell them, chevalier, is there anything I
could not make you do?"
Then the broad visage of Phebus would beam with respectful pride as he
surveyed his clever brother. "No, abbe," he would quietly rejoin. "You
are wiser and better than I, and I am content that you should think
for both."
Then in his turn would Clovis laugh as he glanced at the attentive
Gabrielle. "We must be careful, lest," he observed, slyly, "we forfeit
our independence. While pretending to disbelieve, he is deceiving us,
for he is himself gifted with magnetic powers of a high order. I vow I
am half influenced already, and must take precautions lest I become a
slave."
Those were pleasant rides under the yellowing foliage in the late
autumn of '89. Clovis was galvanised into a semblance of activity, and
appeared under the process to have half realized how charming was his
wife. Instead of provokingly staring without seeing her, he observed
how fresh was her complexion, how silken and golden and heavy were the
loose plaits of her unpowdered hair. To her astonishment, following
the abbe's lead, he became almost attentive, guiding her horse over
difficult ground, even marking the fact when she was tired.
And so it came about, as by touch of fairy wand, that Gabrielle, alone
in the desert, had found a following. The husband whom she adored was
displaying a ghostly kindness, with which for the present she was
content. If he only would appreciate the prodigies--but that, under
beneficent influence, would follow, doubtless. The newly-arrived
swains vied with each other in endeavouring to forestall her wishes.
The abbe ordered everyone about for the general good and her
particular behoof, like some hovering farseeing deity; while the less
pretentious chevalier plodded at her heel like a wheezy spaniel, as
active as his redundancy permitted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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