h for my daughter. 'Tis the world
topsy turvy, sure enough! And that this true love that Berenger has run
through fire and water after, like a knight in a pedlar's run through
turn out a mere little, brown, common-looking woman after all, not one
whit equal to Lucy!'

Sir Marmaduke modified his disappointment a little that night, when he
had talked Philip into a state of feverishness and suffering that became
worse under Madame de Quinet's reproofs and remedies, and only yielded
to Eustacie's long and patient soothing. He then could almost have owned
that it was well she was not like his own cherished type of womanhood,
and the next day he changed his opinion still more, even as to her
appearance.

There was a great gathering of favourers of the Huguenot cause on that
day; gentlemen came from all parts to consult with Henry of Navarre, and
Madame de Quinet had too much sense of the fitness of things to allow
Madame de Ribaumont to appear at the ensuing banquet in her shabby,
rusty black serge, and tight white borderless cap. The whole wardrobe of
the poor young Duchess de Quinet was placed at her service, and though,
with the thought of her adopted father on her heart, she refused gay
colours, yet when, her toilette complete, she said into Philip's room,
he almost sprang up in delight, and Sir Marmaduke rose and ceremoniously
bowed as to a stranger, and was only undeceived when little Rayonette
ran joyously to Philip, asking if _Manan_ was not _si belle, si belle_.

The effects of her unrestful nights has now passed away, and left her
magnificent eyes in their full brilliancy and arch fire; the blooming
glow was restored to her cheek; and though neck, brow, and hands were
browner than in the shelter of convent or palace, she was far more near
absolute beauty than in former days, both from countenance and from
age. Her little proud head was clustered with glossy locks of jet, still
short, but curling round her brow and neck, whose warm brunette tints
contrasted well with the delicate, stiffened cobweb of her exquisite
standing ruff, which was gathered into a white satin bodice, with a
skirt of the same material, over which swept a rich black brocade train
open in front, with an open body and half-sleeves with falling lace, and
the hands, delicate and shapely as ever, if indeed a little tanned, held
fan and handkerchief with as much courtly grace as though they had never
stirred broth nor wrung out linen. Sir Marmaduke