Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 75: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

rin Cig oe Ds J = a ‘Ve “oF “ Fos Sy a “4 LA ott oft ; | ke eka , i, . ut, = PALS. ae) bat oes “ % is 1 eid 1 t: A HOUSE IN THE RUE CASSETTE. 65 me every day, from one to two o’clock, at the tennis court, near the Luxembourg, and from three to four at the Place Royale. It is there that the best society goes. Adieu, I am expected elsewhere.”’ ‘‘From one to two at the. Luxembourg, and from three to four at the Place Royale. ’Tis well; I shall recollect it to the extent of not going there,’’ said Belle-Rose to him- self as he went away. This lieutenant was a man of a haughty and irascible dis- position whom all his subordinates detested. The following day, the sergeant returned to the Rue Cassette and struck at the low door. The same lady opened and this time took the letter at the first word. ‘¢Well!’’ said Belle-Rose to himself. ‘‘At our first inter- view she spoke five or six words; to-day she has not spoken more than two; at the next interview she will not say anything atall. This singularly abridges the negotia- tions. ’’ Belle-Rose kept Monsieur d’Assonville constantly ad- vised of his actions, and the rest of his time he beat about the city, recruiting heroes at six sous per day for His Most Christian Majesty’s artillery. Between the letters and the promenades SBelle-Rose thought constantly of Suzanne. He could not accustom himself to call her Madame d’Al- bergotti. Butif his love was as profound as ever, the recollection of it was less bitter. The sentiment of duty, all powerful in his soul, made him excuse the conduct of Mademoiselle de Malzonvilliers, who had given way only to the paternal authority. When he passed through the quarter of the Palais-Royal, through the Rue St. Honoré, through the public gardens, his handsome appearance and his youth attracted the looks of all the prepossessing grisettes and of a great many great ladies, also. But looks and smiles glided over a heart tenanted by regret. Three days after the sending of the second letter, Belle-Rose per- ceived, as he entered the Rue du Pot-de-Fer St. Sulpice, the worthy Monsieur Mériset walking before his door with a hurried step. He drew off his cap, placed it on again, stopped, looked behind him and before him. His feet scarcely touched the soil, and his lips, tightly contracted, seemed to have some trouble to contain a stream of words ready to escape. “Hh! eh!’’ said he, quite low, to Belle-Rose, and with the most mysterious air in the world, ‘‘there is something “A letter?” COMME OO (€(0) =)