He
recalled the fact to the Lady de Tilly, who laughed and said her old
friends had lived so long in the company of the kings and queens
that formed the paste-board Court of the Kingdom of Cocagne that
they could relish no meaner amusement than one which royalty,
although mad, had the credit of introducing.
Amelie devoted herself to the task of cheering her somewhat moody
brother. She sat beside him, resting her hand with sisterly
affection upon his shoulder, while in a low, sweet voice she talked
to him, adroitly touching those topics only which she knew awoke
pleasurable associations in his mind. Her words were sweet as manna
and full of womanly tenderness and sympathy, skilfully wrapped in a
strain of gaiety like a bridal veil which covers the tears of the
heart.
Pierre Philibert's eyes involuntarily turned towards her, and his
ears caught much of what she said. He was astonished at the grace
and perfection of her language; it seemed to him like a strain of
music filled with every melody of earth and heaven, surpassing poets
in beauty of diction, philosophers in truth,--and in purity of
affection, all the saints and sweetest women of whom he had ever
read.
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