Twenty-nine
The Disappearance of Léonie
Lord Rupert yawned mightily, and heaved himself up in his chair.
‘What do we do to-night?’ he asked. ‘’Pon my soul, I’ve never been to so many balls in my life! It’s no wonder I’m worn out.’
‘Oh, my dear Rupert, I am nigh dead with fatigue!’ Fanny cried. ‘At least we have this one evening quiet! To-morrow there is Madame du Deffand’s soirée.’ She nodded to Léonie. ‘You will enjoy that, my love, I assure you. A few poems to be read, discussion, all the wit of Paris present – oh, ’twill be a most amusing evening, I vow! There is no one who will not be there.’
‘What, so we have respite to-day, have we?’ said Rupert. ‘Now, what shall I do?’
‘I thought you said you were worn out?’ Marling remarked.
‘So I am, but I can’t sit at home all the evening. What do you do?’
‘Hugh and I are bound for de Châtelet’s, to visit Merivale. Will you accompany us?’
Rupert considered for a while.
‘No, I believe I’ll go to this new gaming-house I hear tell of.’
Avon put up his glass.
‘Oh? What, and where, is the novelty?’
‘In the Rue Chambéry. It’s like to kill Vassaud’s if what they say is true. I’m surprised you’d not heard of it.’
‘Yes, it is not in keeping with the part,’ Avon said. ‘I believe I will go with you there this evening, child. It will not do for Paris to think I did not know of it.’
‘What, will you all be out?’ Fanny asked. ‘And I had promised to dine with my dear Julie! Léonie, I am sure that she will be pleased if you come with me.’
‘Oh madame, I am so tired!’ Léonie protested. ‘I would like to go to bed early to-night.’
Rupert stretched his long legs out before him.
‘Tired at last!’ he said. ‘Faith, I thought you’d never be wearied out!’
‘My dearest life, I will tell the servants to take a tray to your room,’ Fanny said. ‘You must not be tired to-morrow, for I am determined you shall come to Madame du Deffand’s soirée! Why, Condé is sure to be there!’
Léonie smiled rather wanly, and encountered Avon’s scrutiny.
‘My infant, what has happened to trouble you?’ he asked.
She opened wide her eyes.
‘But nothing, Monseigneur! It is just that I have a touch of the migraine.’
‘To be sure I am not surprised.’ My lady shook her head wisely. ‘We have been abroad late every night this week. It is I who am at fault to have permitted it.’
‘Oh, but madame, it has been fort amusant !’ Léonie said. ‘I have enjoyed myself so much!’
‘Egad, and so have I!’ Rupert remarked. ‘It has been a mad two months, and I scarce know whether I am standing on my head or my heels. Are you off already, Hugh?’
‘We are dining with de Châtelet at four,’ Hugh explained. ‘I’ll say good night, Léonie. You’ll be abed when we return.’
She gave him her hand; her eyes were downcast. Both he and Marling kissed the slender fingers. Hugh made some joke to Rupert, and they went out.
‘Do you dine at home, Justin?’ asked m