three times.”
The courtyard of the hotel was so arranged, that whenever
there was any occasion for it, it could be used as a
riding-school. Malicorne, with perfect ease, arranged the
bridle and snaffle-reins, placed his left hand on the
horse’s mane, and, with his foot in the stirrup, raised
himself and seated himself in the saddle. At first, he made
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the horse walk the whole circuit of the court-yard at a
foot-pace; next at a trot; lastly at a gallop. He then drew
up close to the count, dismounted, and threw the bridle to a
groom standing by. “Well,” said the count, “what do you
think of it, M. de Malicorne?”
“This horse, monsieur le comte, is of the Mecklenburg breed.
In looking whether the bit suited his mouth, I saw that he
was rising seven, the very age when the training of a horse
intended for a charger should commence. The forehand is
light. A horse which holds its head high, it is said, never
tires his rider’s hand. The withers are rather low. The
drooping of the hindquarters would almost make me doubt the
purity of its German breed, and I think there is English
blood in him. He stands well on his legs, but he trots high,
and may cut himself, which requires attention to be paid to
his shoeing. He is tractable; and as I made him turn round
and change his feet, I found him quick and ready in doing
so.”
“Well said, M. de Malicorne,” exclaimed the comte; “you are
a judge of horses, I perceive;” then, turning towards him
again, he continued, “You are most becomingly dressed, M. de
Malicorne. That is not a provincial cut, I presume. Such a
style of dress is not to be met with at Tours or Orleans.”
“No, monsieur le comte; my clothes were made at Paris.”
“There is no doubt about that. But let us resume our own
affair. Manicamp wishes for the appointment of a second maid
of honor.”
“You perceive what he has written, monsieur le comte.”
“For whom was the first appointment?”
Malicorne felt the color rise in his face as he answered
hurriedly.
“A charming maid of honor, Mademoiselle de Montalais.”
“Ah, ah! you are acquainted with her?”
“We are affianced, or nearly so.”
“That is quite another thing, then; a thousand compliments,”
exclaimed De Guiche, upon whose lips a courtier’s jest was
already fitting, but to whom the word “affianced,” addressed
by Malicorne with respect to Mademoiselle de Montalais,
recalled the respect due to women.
“And for whom is the second appointment destined?” asked De
Guiche, “is it for anyone to whom Manicamp may happen to be
affianced? In that case I pity her, poor girl! for she will
have a sad fellow for a husband.”
“No, monsieur le comte, the second appointment is for
Mademoiselle de la Baume le Blanc de la Valliere.”
“Unknown,” said De Guiche.
“Unknown? yes, monsieur,” said Malicorne, smiling in his
turn.
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“Very good. I will speak to Monsieur about it. By the by,
she is of gentle birth?”
“She belongs to a very good family and is maid of honor to
Madame.”
“That’s well. Will you accompany me to Monsieur?”
“Most certainly, if I may be permitted the honor.”
“Have you your carriage?”
“No; I came here on horseback.”
“Dressed as you are?”
“No, monsieur; I posted from Orleans, and I changed my
traveling suit for the one I have on, in order to present
myself to you.”
“True, you already told me you had come from Orleans;”
saying which he crumpled Manicamp’s letter in his hand, and
thrust it in his pocket.
“I beg your pardon,” said Malicorne, timidly; “but I do not
think you have read all.”
“Not read all, do you say?”
“No, there were two letters in the same envelope.”
“Oh! are you sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Let us look, then,” said the count, as he opened the letter
again.
“Ah! you are right,” he said, opening the paper which he had
not yet read.
“I suspected it,” he continued — “another application for
an appointment under Monsieur. This Manicamp is a regular