Monsieur de Camors -- Volume 1

took the same road as the preceding evening, passed the monastic-looking building that held Madame de Tecle, glanced at the old

rrounding of fields sloping away, green as emerald, dotted here and there with great bouquets of trees, or cut by walks adorned with huge roses or white bridges thrown over rivulets. Cattle and sheep were resting here and there, which might have figured at the Opera

nto a vestibule. Thence he entered a charming apartment, where a young la

of the opening door, a

cl

oubt, she looked fixedly at him with her large eyes

but I inquired for M

t will soon return. Be

herself, pushing away with her foot

nsieur des Rameures may I have the

me de Tecle's brown but charming face.

ted to find an elderly-a-person-that is, a respectable" h

ed completely unmove

r," she said, "to let me know who

nsieur d

saw this morning. We have been very rude-my daughter and I-but we w

your daughter and yourself wil

Then there was a pause long enough to embarrass Camors, during which his eye fell upon the piano, and his lips almost formed the original

sieur de Camors?" Madame

General de Campvallon, who has also the honor, I believe, to b

you have done so; and w

ral

, Madame." There

eet my uncle. We are almost sure to meet him." Camors bowed. Madame de Tecle rose and rang the bell:

the steady, frank look of an inquisitive child, bowed slightly

of Camors, walked on with a light and rapid step, her fairy-like litt

e and by Camors. Until now the child had been very quiet, but the rich golden corn-tassels, entangled with bright daisies, red poppies, and hollyhocks, and the humming concert of myriads of flies- blue, yellow, and reddishbrownwhich sported amid the sweets, excited her beyond self-control. Stopping here and there to pluck a flower, she would turn and cry, "Pardon, Mons

n the midst of the

ish for the apple, turned an imploring eye to Camors and said, softl

stretch out his hand, and det

glory to her bouquet, she placed the whole inside the ribbon

ooking at them over the fence and shading his eyes with his hand. His robust limbs were clad in gaiters of yellow leather with steel buttons, and he wore a loose coat of

ucing the young Count by a wave of th

, as he continued: "I knew your mother intimately, and am charmed to have her son under my roof. Your mother was a most amiable person, Monsieur, and certa

ad told the Count it would be impolite to break suddenly to M. des Rameures the plan they had concocted. The latter, the

d you know this, Elise? Ca

maids, are deeply interested in

General! Can it

ews himself. Do you know th

d'Estrelles is my cou

ht; and she is o

bout twen

intelligence with one of the r

etion, whether she is endow

ngly beautiful,

his own affairs. Elise, my dear, whenever you are ready we will follow you. Pardon me, Monsieur le Comte, for receiving you in this rustic attire, but

Babylon to install yourself among your rural possessions? It will be a good example, Mo

ullus

qualent abducti

-e

the rest-poor memory! Ah, young si

dum falces confl

ntinuing the br

with them. And Virgil is my poet. Not that I approve of all his theories of cultivation. With all the respect I accord him, there is a great deal to be said on that point; and his plan of breeding in particular will never do-never do! Still, he is delicious, eh? Very well, Monsieur Camors, now you see my l

nex, hic inte

ros frigus ca

his a

ille deos qui

Silvanumq

d moving his head slightly in the direction of Ma

at is pure truth!" crie

hear that

, un

u understan

unc

n laughed heartily. "Do not believe her, Monsieur de Camors; wome

eau, where they sat down on a bench before

d then discreetly retired, flattering himself that his introduction had made a favorable impressi

s in

g; but he still resembles his father, who was vicious as sin itself. His eyes and his smile recall some traits of his admirable mot

ys so,

t rumor

nd always exaggerates. For my part, I like the youn

se he compared you to

me a word in French that was not in good taste. Before we condemn him, uncle, let

reeable odor of Paris! He is too polite-too studied! Not a shadow of enthusiasm-no fire of youth! He nev

ng his father in such a tragic manner, and he him

other, whom you resemble. Ah, 'tis thus we end all our disputes, naughty child! I grumble; I am passionate; I act like a Tartar. Then you speak with your good sense and sweetness, my da

es fleurs l'ab

miel de tou