For one moment Justin stared haughtily at his page. Instantly the twinkle disappeared. Léon stared back gravely.
‘Be very careful,’ Justin warned him.
‘Yes, Monseigneur,’ Léon said meekly.
‘You may go now. This evening you will accompany me out.’ The Duke dipped his quill in the inkhorn, and started to write.
‘Where, Monseigneur?’ inquired the page with great interest.
‘Is that your affair? I dismissed you. Go.’
‘Yes, Monseigneur. Pardon!’ Léon departed, carefully closing the door behind him. Outside he met Davenant, coming slowly down the stairs. Hugh smiled.
‘Well, Léon? Where have you been all the morning?’
‘Dressing myself, in these new clothes, m’sieu’. I think I look nice, n’est-ce pas?’
‘Very nice. Where are you going now?’
‘I do not know, m’sieu’. Perhaps there is something I may do for Monseigneur?’
‘If he gave you no orders there is nothing. Can you read?’
‘But yes! I was taught. Ah, I have forgotten, m’sieu’!’
‘Have you?’ Hugh was amused. ‘If you come with me, child, I’ll find you a book.’
Twenty minutes later Hugh entered the library to find the Duke still writing, as Léon had left him.
‘Justin, who and what is Léon? He is a delightful child; certainly no peasant!’
‘He is a very impertinent child,’ said Justin, with the ghost of a smile. ‘He is the first page I have had who ever dared to laugh at me.’
‘Did he laugh at you? A very wholesome experience for you, Alastair. How old is the child?’
‘I have reason to believe that he is nineteen,’ said Justin placidly.
‘Nineteen! Faith, it’s not possible! He is a babe!’
‘Not entirely. Do you come with me to Vassaud’s tonight?’
‘I suppose so. I’ve no money to lose, but what matter?’
‘You need not play,’ said Justin.
‘If one does not play, why visit a gaming-house?’
‘To talk to the monde. I go to Vassaud’s to see Paris.’ He resumed his writing, and presently Hugh strolled away.
At dinner that evening Léon stood behind the Duke’s chair, and waited upon him. Justin seemed hardly to notice him, but Hugh could not take his eyes from that piquant little face. Indeed, he stared so hard that at last Léon stared back, with great dignity, and some reproach. Observing his friend’s fixed regard, Justin turned, and put up his glass to look at Léon.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘Monseigneur, only looking at M. Davenant.’
‘Then do not.’
‘But he looks at me, Monseigneur!’