De Wardes was still only at Buckingham's affair.

The chevalier threw the letter over his shoulder upon an adjoining table, and said in a disdainful tone, "It is really incredible; and yet poor De Wardes is not deficient in ability; but the truth is, it is not very apparent, so easy is it to grow rusty in the country.

The deuce take the simpleton, who ought to have written to me about matters of importance, and yet he writes such silly stuff as that.

If it had not been for that miserable letter, which has no meaning at all in it, I should have detected in the grove yonder a charming little intrigue, which would have compromised a woman, would have perhaps have been as good as a sword-thrust for a man, and have diverted Monsieur for many days to come." He looked at his watch.

"It is now too late," he said.