For since I understood that this woman--who to me
was like no other of her sex--was not for so poor a thing as Gaston de
Luynes, like the dog in the fable I wished that no other might possess her.
Inevitable it seemed that sooner or later one must come who would woo and
win her. But ere that befell, my Lord Cardinal would have meted out
justice to me--the justice of the rope meseemed--and I should not be by to
gnash my teeth in jealousy.
That evening, when the Chevalier de Canaples had gone to pay a visit to his
vineyard,--the thing that, next to himself, he loved most in this world,--
and whilst Genevi?ve and Andrea were vowing a deathless love to each other
in the rose garden, their favourite haunt when the Chevalier was absent, I
seized the opportunity for making my adieux to Yvonne.
We were leaning together upon the balustrade of the terrace, and our faces
were turned towards the river and the wooded shores beyond--a landscape
this that was as alive and beautiful now as it had been dead and grey when
first I came to Canaples two months ago.
Scarce were my first words spoken when she turned towards me, and
methought--but I was mad, I told myself--that there was a catch in her
voice as she exclaimed, "You are leaving us, Monsieur?"
"To-morrow morning I shall crave Monsieur your father's permission to quit
Canaples.
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