chamberlains and always in attendance on his Majesty; and it was amazing
to see with what smirks and grimaces, and ejaculations in Piedmontese
French, he complimented the Marchioness on her appearance, and exclaimed
at the magnificence of the castle, which must doubtless have appeared to
him little better than a cattle-grange. His talk was unintelligible to
Odo, but there was no mistaking the nature of the glances he fixed on
Donna Laura, who, having fled to her room on his approach, presently
descended in a ravishing new sacque, with an air of extreme surprise,
and her hair curled (as Odo afterward learned) by the Count's own
barber.

Odo had never seen his mother look handsomer. She sparkled at the
Count's compliments, embraced her father, playfully readjusted her
mother's coif, and in the prettiest way made their excuses to the Count
for the cold draughts and bare floors of the castle. "For having lived
at court myself," said she, "I know to what your excellency is
accustomed, and can the better value your condescension in exposing
yourself, at this rigorous season, to the hardships of our
mountain-top."

The Marquess at this began to look black, but seeing the Count's
pleasure in the compliment, contented himself with calling out for
dinner, which, said he, with all respect to their visitor, would stay
his stomach better than the French kick-shaws at his Majesty's table.
Whether the Count was of the same mind, it was impossible to say, though
Odo could not help observing that the stewed venison and spiced boar's
flesh seemed to present certain obstacles either to his jaws or his
palate, and that his appetite lingered on the fried chicken-livers and
tunny-fish in oil; but he cast such looks at Donna Laura as seemed to
declare that for her sake he would willingly have risked his teeth on