Indeed the behaviour of all the persons who composed this court could not but inspire those who saw it with sentiments of the nature I have described:  the queen herself, tho’ of too great a soul to shew any marks of repining at her fate, was never seen to smile:  even the Chevalier St. George and princess had both of them a very serious air, which denoted they had reflections more befitting their condition than their years; and those about them being most of them persons who had left the greatest part of their fortunes as well as kindred either in England, Scotland or Ireland, had their own misfortunes as well as that of the royal cause to lament, and therefore could not but wear a dejection in their countenances:  in fine, every thing he saw seem’d an emblem of fallen majesty, except on drawing-room nights, and then indeed the splendor of Marli and Versailles shone forth at St. Germains in the persons of those who came to pay their compliments, among whom were not only the Dauphine and all the princes of the blood, but even the grand monarch himself thought it not beneath his dignity to give this proof of his respect once or twice every week.

This way of living, and the company he was now associated with, gave Horatio a manly way of thinking much sooner than otherwise perhaps he might have had, yet did not rob him of his vivacity:  some of the queen’s women, and the young ladies about the princess, particularly mademoiselle Charlotta, had a thousand sprightly entertainments among themselves, into which he, the baron de la Valiere, and some others who had attachments at that court, were always admitted.

But now the time arrived in which he was to lose the society of that valuable friend; the campaign was ready to open, and he was obliged to head his troops and follow the marshals de Villars and Marsin into Flanders.

All the conversation turning now on war, those martial inclinations, which love and the season of the year had occasioned to lye dormant for a while in the bosom of Horatio, now revived in him:  he embraced the baron at taking leave of him with tears of affection and regret:  how cruel is my fate, said he, to make me of a nation at enmity with yours, and that I can neither fight for you nor against you!

Well, my dear Horatio, replied the other, France may hereafter have occasion to employ your arm where there are no ties of duty to restrain you:—­in the mean time, continued he with a smile, softer engagements may employ your thoughts;—­mademoiselle Charlotta de Palfoy is a conquest worth pursuing.

This was the first hint the baron had ever given him of the discovery he had made of his sentiments, and it so much the more surprized him that he was told by another what he was not certain of himself:—­he knew indeed the society of that young lady gave him infinite satisfaction, and that he was restless when absent from her; but these words, and the air with which they were spoke, shewed him more of his own heart