gard to you.'--'Do not call me "my
lord duke," my dear D'Havrincourt; we are old fellow-soldiers and
friends, my honor is somewhat touchy, I confess, and I find that you and
our comrades do not receive me so cordially, as in times past. You do not
deny it; I see, I know, I feel it.' To all this D'Havrincourt answered,
with the same coldness: 'I have never seen any one wanting in respect
towards you.'--'I am not talking of respect,' exclaimed I, as I clasped
his hand affectionately, though I observed that he but feebly returned
the pressure; 'I speak of cordiality, confidence, which I once enjoyed,
while now I am treated like a stranger. Why is it? What has occasioned
this change?'--Still cold and reserved, he answered: 'These distinctions
are so nice, marshal, that it is impossible for me to give you any
opinion on the subject.'--My heart swelled with grief and anger. What was
I to do? To quarrel with D'Havrincourt would have been absurd. A sense of
dignity forced me to break off the interview, but it has only confirmed
my fears. Thus," added the marshal, getting more and more animated, "thus
am I fallen from the esteem to which I am entitled, thus am I despised,
without even knowing the cause! Is it not odious? If they would only
utter a charge against me--I should at least be able to defend myself,
and to find an answer. But no, no! not even a word--only the cold
politeness that is worse than any insult. Oh! it is too much, too much!
for all this comes but in addition to other cares. What a life is mine
since the death of my father! If I did but find rest and happiness at
home--but no! I come in, but to read shameful letters; and still worse,"
added the marshal, in a heartrending tone, and after a moment's
hesitation, "to find my children grow more and more indifferent towards
me--"Yes," continued he, perceiving the amazement of Dagobert, "and yet
they know how much I love them!"

"Your daughters indifferent!" exclaimed Dagobert, in astonishment. "You
make them such a reproach?"

"Oh! I do not blame them. They have hardly had time to know me."

"Not had time to know you?" returned the soldier, in a tone of
remonstrance, and warming up in his turn. "Ah! of what did their mother
talk to them, except you? and I too! what could I teach your children
except to know and love you?"

"You take their part--that is natural--they love you better than they do
me," said the marshal, with growing bitterness. Dagobert felt himsel