CHAPTER XXIV
GOSSIP
Whilst the younger people danced, the older ones gossiped, and theabsence of any known facts rendered the gossip doubly interesting.
There was one group most especially so engaged; at the further cornerof the room, and with sixteen dancing pairs intervening between it andthe royal dais, there was little fear of Her Majesty overhearing anyfrivolous comments on the all-absorbing topic of the day, or of MadameLydie herself being made aware of their existence.
Here Madame de la Beaume, a young and pretty matron, possessed of agood-looking husband who did not trouble her much with his company,was the centre of a gaily cackling little crowd, not unlike anassemblage of geese beside a stream at eventide. Young M. de Louvoiswas there and the old Duchesse de Pontchartrain, also M. Crebillon,the most inveterate scandal-monger of his time, and several others.
They all talked in whispers, glad that the music drowned every echo ofthis most enjoyable conversation.
"I have it from my coiffeur, whose son was on duty in an adjacentroom, that there was a violent quarrel between them," said Madame dela Beaume with becoming mystery. "The man says that Madame Lydiescreamed and raged for half an hour, then flew out of the room andalong the passages like one possessed."
"These English are very peculiar people," said M. Crebillonsententiously. "I have it on M. de Voltaire's own authority thatEnglish husbands always beat their wives, and he spent someconsiderable time in England recently studying their manners andcustoms."
"We may take it for granted that milor Eglinton, though partlycivilized through his French parentage, hath retained some of hisnative brutality," added another cavalier gravely.
"And it is quite natural that Madame Lydie would not tolerate histreatment of her," concluded the old Duchess.
"Ah!" sighed Madame de la Beaume pathetically, "I believe that Englishhusbands beat their wives only out of jealousy. At least, so I havebeen told, whereas ours are too often unfaithful to feel any suchviolent and uncomfortable pangs."
"Surely," quoth young M. de Louvois, casting an admiring glance atMadame's bold decolletage, "you would not wish M. de la Beaume to layhands on those beautiful shoulders."
"Heu! heu!" nodded Madame enigmatically.
M. Crebillon cast an inquisitorial look at Madame de Stainville, whowas standing close by.
"Nay! from what I hear," he said mysteriously, "milor Eglinton hadquite sufficient provocation for his jealousy, and like an Englishmanhe availed himself of the privileges which the customs of his owncountry grant him, and he frankly beat his wife."
Every one rallied round him, for he seemed to have fuller details thanany one else, and Madame de la Beaume whispered eagerly:
"You mean M. de Stainville. . . ."
"Hush--sh--sh," interrupted the old Duchess quickly, "here comesmiladi."
The Dowager Marchioness of Eglinton, "miladi," as she was alwayscalled, was far too shrewd and too well versed in the manners andcustoms of her friends not to be fully aware of the gossip that wasgoing on all round the room. Very irate at having been kept inignorance of the facts which had caused her son's sudden decision, andLydie's strange attitude, she was nevertheless determined that,whatever scandal was being bruited abroad, it should prove primarilyto the detriment of her daughter-in-law's reputation.
Therefore, whenever, to-night, she noted groups congregated incorners, and conversations being obviously carried on in whispers, sheboldly approached and joined in the gossip, depositing a poisonedshaft here and there with great cleverness, all the more easily as itwas generally supposed that she knew a great deal more than she caredto say.
"Nay! I beg of you, Mesdames and Messieurs," she now said quitecheerfully, "do not let me interrupt your conversation. Alas! do I notknow its subject? . . . My poor son cannot be to blame in theunfortunate affair. Lydie, though she may be wholly innocent in thematter, is singularly obstinate."
"Then you really think that?----" queried Madame de la Beaume eagerly,and then paused, half afraid that she had said too much.
"Alas! what can I say?" rejoined miladi with a sigh. "I was brought upin the days when we women were taught obedience to our husband'swishes."
"Madame Lydie was not like to have learnt the first phrase of thatwholesome lesson," quoth M. de Louvois with a smile.
"Exactly, cher Monsieur," assented miladi, as she sailed majesticallyon to another group.
"What did miladi mean exactly?" asked M. Crebillon.
"Oh! she is so kind-hearted, such an angel!" sighed pretty Madame dela Beaume, "she wanted to palliate Madame Lydie's conduct bysuggesting that milor merely desired to forbid her future intercoursewith M. de Stainville. . . . I have heard that version of the quarrelalready, but I must own that it bears but little resemblance to truth.We all know that so simple a request would not have led to a reallyserious breach between milor and his wife."
"It was more than that, of course, or milor would not have beatenher," came in unanswerable logic from M. Crebillon.
"Hush--sh--sh!" admonished the old Duchess, "here comes His Majesty."
"He looks wonderfully good-humoured," said Madame de la Beaume, "anddoth not wear at all his usual Thursday's scowl."
"Then we may all be sure, Mesdames and Messieurs," said theirrepressible Crebillon, "that rumour hath not lied again."
"What rumour?"
"You have not heard?"
"No!" came from half a dozen eager and anxious lips.
"They say that His Majesty the King of France has agreed to deliverthe Chevalier de Saint George to the English in consideration of alarge sum of money."
"Impossible!"
"That cannot be true!"
"My valet had it from Monsieur de Stainville's man," protested M.Crebillon, "and he declares the rumour true."
"A King of France would never do such a thing."
"A palpable and clumsy lie!"
And the same people, who, five minutes ago, had hurled the mud ofscandal at the white robes of an exceptionally high-minded andvirtuous woman, recoiled with horror at the thought of any of itclinging to the person of that fat and pompous man, whom an evil fatehad placed on the throne of France.