Petticoat Rule Part 17

"But M. de Courtenai has gone to flirt with my wife!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lord Eglinton in despair.

"In that case no doubt M. le Duc de Luxembourg will claim the right----"

"_Mais comment donc?_" said the Duke with great alacrity, as, in spite of milor's still continued feeble protests, he took the coat from the hands of M. Achille.

M. de Luxembourg was very pompous and very slow, and there was nothing that Lord Eglinton hated worse than what he called amateur valeting.

But now there was nothing for it but forbearance and resignation; patience, too, of which _le pet.i.t Anglais_ had no more than a just share. He gathered the frills of his s.h.i.+rt sleeves in his hands and tried not to look as if he wished M. de Luxembourg at the bottom of the nearest pond; but at this very moment Monseigneur le Prince de Courtenai, who, it appeared, had not gone to flirt with Madame la Marquise, since the latter was very much engaged elsewhere, but had merely been absorbed in political discussions with M. de Vermandois, suddenly realized that one of his numerous privileges was being encroached upon.

Not that he had any special desire to help M. le Controleur-General on with his coat, but because he was ever anxious that his proper precedence as quasi prince of the blood should always be fully recognized. So he gave a discreet cough just sufficiently loud to attract M. Achille's notice, and to warn M. le Duc de Luxembourg that he was being presumptuous.

Without another word the coat was transferred from the hands of the Marechal to those of the quasi-royal Prince, whilst Eglinton, wearing an air of resigned martyrdom, still waited for his coat, the frills of his s.h.i.+rt sleeves gripped tightly in his hands.

Monseigneur advanced. His movements were always sedate, and he felt pleased that every one who stood close by had noticed that the rank and precedence, which were rightfully his, had been duly accorded him, even in so small a matter, by no less a personage than M. le Controleur-General des Finances.

He now held the coat in perfect position, and Lord Eglinton gave a sigh of relief, when suddenly the great doors at the end of the long room were thrown wide open, and the stentorian voices of the royal flunkeys announced:

"Messieurs, Mesdames! His Majesty the King!"

The buzz of talk died down, giving place to respectful murmurs. There was a great rustle of silks and brocades, a clink of dress swords against the parquet floor, as the crowd parted to make way for Louis XV. The various groups of political disputants broke up, as if scattered by a fairy wand; soon all the b.u.t.terflies that had hovered in the further corners of the room fluttered toward the magic centre.

Here an avenue seemed suddenly to form itself of silken gowns, of brocaded panniers, of gaily embroidered coats, topped by rows of powdered perruques that bent very low to the ground as, fat, smiling, pompous, and not a little bored, His Majesty King Louis XV made slow progress along the full length of the room, leaning lightly on the arm of the inevitable Marquise de Pompadour, and nodding with great condescension to the perruqued heads as he pa.s.sed.

Near the window embrasure he met la Marquise d'Eglinton and M. le Duc d'Aumont, her father. To Lydie he extended a gracious hand, and engaged her in conversation with a few trivial words. This gave Mme.

de Pompadour the opportunity of darting a quick glance, that implied an anxious query, at the Duc d'Aumont, to which he responded with an almost imperceptible shake of the head.

All the while M. le Controleur-General des Finances was still standing, s.h.i.+rt frills in hand, his face a picture of resigned despair, his eyes longingly fixed on his own coat, which Monseigneur de Courtenai no longer held up for him.

Indeed, Monseigneur, a rigid stickler for etiquette himself, would never so far have forgotten what was due to the house of Bourbon as to indulge in any pursuit--such as helping a Minister on with his coat--at the moment when His Majesty entered a room.

He bowed with the rest of them, and thus Louis XV at the end of his progress, found the group around milor's bedside; his cousin de Courtenai bowing, Monsieur Achille with his nose almost touching his knees, and milor Eglinton in s.h.i.+rt sleeves looking supremely uncomfortable, and not a little sheepish.

"Ah! ce cher milor!" said the King with charming bonhomie, as he took the situation in at a glance. "Nay, cousin, I claim an ancient privilege! Monsieur le Controleur-General, have you ever been waited on by a King of France?"

"Never to my knowledge, Sire," stammered _le pet.i.t Anglais_.

Louis XV was quite delightful to-day; so fresh and boyish in his movements, and with an inimitable _laisser aller_ and friendliness in his manner which caused many pairs of eyes to stare, and many hearts to ponder.

"Let this be an epoch-making experience in your life, then," he said gaily. "Is this your coat?"

And without more ado he took that much-travelled garment from Monseigneur de Courtenai's hands.

Such condescension, such easy graciousness had not been witnessed for years! And His Majesty was not overfond of that State-appointed Ministry of Finance of which milor was the nominal head.

"His Majesty must be sorely in need of money!" was a whispered comment which ran freely enough round the room.

Withal the King himself seemed quite unconscious of the wave of interest to which his gracious behaviour was giving rise. He was holding up the coat, smiling benevolently at M. le Controleur, who appeared to be more than usually nervous, and now made no movement toward that much-desired portion of his attire.

"Allons, milor, I am waiting," said King Louis at last.

"Er--that is," murmured Lord Eglinton pitiably, "could I have my coat right side out?"

"_Ohe! par ma foi!_" quoth the King with easy familiarity, "your pardon, milor, but 'tis seldom I hold such an article in my hands, and I believe, by all the saints in the calendar, that I was holding it upside down, wrong side out, sleeves foremost, and collar awry!"

He laughed till his fat sides ached, and tears streamed from his eyes; then, amidst discreet murmurs of admiration at so much condescension, such gracious good humour, the ceremony of putting on M. le Controleur's coat was at last performed by the King of France, and milor, now fully clothed and apparently much relieved in his mind, was able to present his respects to Madame de Pompadour.

CHAPTER XIV

ROYAL FAVOURS

Apparently there was to be no end to royal graciousness this morning, as every one who looked could see. Hardly was the coat on M. le Controleur's shoulders than the King engaged him in conversation, whilst Mme. de Pompadour dropped into the armchair lately vacated by Monseigneur de Courtenai. The well-drilled circle of courtiers and ladies, including la belle Irene herself, retired discreetly. Once more there was a barrier of emptiness and parquet flooring round the inner group, now composed of His Majesty, of M. le Controleur-General, and of Mme. de Pompadour. Into these sacred precincts no one would have dared to step. Lydie, having paid her respects to His Majesty, had not joined that intimate circle, and it seemed as if Louis XV had noted her absence, and was duly relieved thereat.

Anon M. le Duc d'Aumont approached the King, offering him a chair.

Louis took it, and in the act of so doing he contrived to whisper four quick words in his Prime Minister's ear.

"Eh bien! Your daughter?"

Lord Eglinton just then was busy trying to find a suitable place whereon to deposit his own insignificant person, and blus.h.i.+ng violently because Mme. de Pompadour had laughingly waved her fan in the direction of his monumental bed; M. le Duc, therefore, whilst adjusting a cus.h.i.+on behind the King's back, was able to reply hurriedly:

"Impossible, Sire!"

"And l'Anglais?"

"I have not yet tried."

"Ah! ah! ah!" laughed Pompadour merrily. "M. le Controleur-General des Finances, are all Englishmen as modest as you?"

"I--I don't know, Madame. I don't know very many," he replied.

"Here is M. le Controleur too bashful to sit on the edge of his own bed in my presence," she continued, still laughing. "Nay, milor, I'll wager that you were reclining on those downy cus.h.i.+ons when you were flirting with Mme. de Stainville."

"Only under the compulsion of my valet-de-chambre, Madame," he protested, "or I'd have got up hours ago."

"Is he such a tyrant, then?" asked Louis.

"Terrible, your Majesty."

"You are afraid of him?"

"I tremble at his look."

"Ah! it is well M. le Controleur-General des Finances should tremble sometimes, even if only before his valet-de-chambre," sighed Louis XV with comic pathos.

"But, Sire, I tremble very often!" protested Lord Eglinton.

"I' faith he speaks truly," laughed Mme. de Pompadour, "since he trembles before his wife."