Alexis, who had waited at the entrance of the tent during the visit his master had paid to M. de Mallet, and was now following them, sighed heavily at this remark. Roderick heard him;—"What is the matter with the boy?" said he: "Were you ever in love, Alexis?"
The page sighed yet more deeply than before, and, crossing his arms upon his breast, bent his head in token of assent.
"It is to be much lamented you cannot tell us all about it," continued Roderick; "for you could never choose a more fitting moment for such a tale; as you may depend upon the sympathy of Mr. Montagu, even if I should be so barbarous as to refuse you mine:—
'We pity faults to which we feel inclined,
And to our proper failings can be kind;'
as one of your own poets says. Eh, Edric! Don't you think he's right?"
"I think you are very provoking."
"That is because I am touching upon a string that happens to be not quite in tune; so
