Nor was "glad" the word either.

Seeing what he now saw and knowing what he now knew, he would have blamed himself bitterly had he stayed away.
"Welcome, Mr.Lennox, my brave and generous opponent of the morning," said a voice, and, looking through the tawny mist, he saw the man whom he had fought and spared, Count Jean de Mezy, in a wonderful coat, waistcoat and knee breeches of white satin, heavily embroidered, white silk stockings, and low white shoes with great silver buckles, and a small gold-hilted sword hanging at his thigh.

The cheeks, a trifle too fat, were mottled again, but his manner like his costume was silken.

One would have thought that he and not Robert was the victor in that trial of skill by the St.Louis gate.
"Welcome, Mr.Lennox," he said again in a tone that showed no malice.
"The Intendant's ball will be all the more brilliant for the presence of yourself and your friends.

What a splendid figure the young Onondaga chief makes!" Tayoga bowed to the compliment, which was rather broad but true, and de Mezy ran on: "We are accustomed here to the presence of Indian chiefs.