Agnes Sorel. G. P. R. James

door, saying, "The Duke of Orleans has gone by, madam. At least, his train passed us while we were at the gates. My lord abbot, I give you a thousand thanks for your hospitality. Ladies all, farewell;" and then passing Madame De Giac, he added, in a whisper, which reached, however, the ears of Jean Charost who was following. "In Paris, then."

      The lady made no answer with her lips; but her eyes spoke sufficiently, and to the thoughts of Jean Charost somewhat too much.

      The serving brother opened the door of the parlor for the guests to pass out, and he had not yet closed it, when the name of the Duke of Orleans was repeated from more than one voice within, and a merry peal of laughter followed.

      The duke hastened his steps, holding the arm of his young companion; and though the smile still lingered on his lips for awhile, yet before they had reached the gate of the convent, it had passed away. Gradually he fell into a fit of deep thought, which lasted till they nearly descended to Juvisy. Then, however, he roused himself, and said, with an abrupt laugh, "I sometimes think men of pleasure are mad, De Brecy."

      "I think so too, your highness," replied Jean Charost.

      The duke started, and looked suddenly in his face; but all was calm and simple there; and, after a moment's silence, the prince rejoined, "Too true, my young friend; too true! A lucid interval often comes upon them, full of high purposes and good resolves: they see light, and truth, and reality for a few short hours, when suddenly some accident--some trifle brings the fit again, and all is darkness and delusion, delirious dreams, and actions of a madman. I have heard of a bridge built of broken porcelain; and such is the life of a man of pleasure. The bridge over which his course lies, from time to eternity, is built of broken resolutions, and himself the architect."

      "A frail structure, my lord, by which to reach heaven," replied Jean Charost, "and methinks some strong beams across would make us surer of even reaching earthly happiness."

      "Where can one find them?" asked the duke.

      "In a strong will," answered Jean Charost.

      The duke mused for a moment or two, and then suddenly changed the conversation, saying, "Who was the girl you were speaking with?"

      "In truth, your highness, I do not know," replied Jean Charost. "She said that she was going, under the escort of Monsieur and Madame De Giac, to Beaugency."

      "Oh, then, I know," replied the duke. "It is the fair Agnes, whom my good aunt talked about. They say she has a wit quite beyond her years. Did you find it so?"

      "I can not tell," replied Jean Charost, "for I do not know her age. She seemed to me quite a girl; and yet spoke like one who thought much and deeply."

      "You were well matched," said the duke, gayly; and, at the same moment, some of his attendants came up, and the conversation stopped for the time.