He crimsoned to the very roots of his hair.

Roxalanne broke into a laugh. "My cousin, my cousin," she cried,
"they that would become masters should begin early, is it not so?"

"Monsieur de Lesperon," said he, in a very formal voice, "do you
wish me to apprehend that you have put me through this catechism
for the purpose of casting a doubt upon what I have said?"

"But have I done that? Have I cast a doubt?" I asked, with the
utmost meekness.

"So I apprehend."

"Then you apprehend amiss. Your words, I assure you, admit of no
doubt whatever. And now, monsieur, if you will have mercy upon me,
we will talk of other things. I am so weary of this unfortunate
Bardelys and his affairs. He may be the fashion of Paris and at
Court, but down here his very name befouls the air. Mademoiselle,"
I said, turning to Roxalanne, "you promised me a lesson in the lore
of flowers."

"Come, then," said she, and, being an exceedingly wise child, she
plunged straightway into the history of the shrubs about us.

Thus did we avert a storm that for a moment was very imminent. Yet
some mischief was done, and some good, too, perhaps. For if I made
an enemy of the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache by humbling him in the
eyes of the one woman before whom he sought to shine, I established
a bond 'twixt Roxalanne and myself by that same humiliation of a