Yes--and you pinched my toy spaniel, sir, and
I was so angry with you that I got up and turned my back on the
company--do you remember? But how should you, being such a child at the
time? Ah, cousin how old you make me feel! I would to God my son looked
as you did then; but the Duke is killing him with his nostrums. The
child was healthy enough when he was born; but what with novenas and
touching of relics and animal magnetism and electrical treatment,
there's not a bone in his little body but the saints and the surgeons
are fighting over its possession. Have you read 'Emile,' cousin, by the
new French author--I forget his name? Well, I would have the child
brought up like 'Emile,' allowed to run wild in the country and grow up
sturdy and hard as a little peasant. But what heresies am I talking! The
book is on the Index, I believe, and if my director knew I had it in my
library I should be set up in the stocks in the market-place and all my
court-gowns burnt at the Church door as a warning against the danger of
importing the new fashions from France!--I hope you hunt, cousin?" she
cried suddenly. "'Tis my chief diversion and one I would have my friends
enjoy with me. His Highness has lately seen fit to cut down my stables,
so that I have scarce forty saddle-horses to my name, and the greater
part but sorry nags at that; yet I can still find a mount for any friend
that will ride with me and I hope to see you among the number if the
Duke can spare you now and then from mass and benediction.
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