When Davenant met his Grace at breakfast next morning he found that the Duke was in excellent spirits. He was more than usually urbane, and whenever his eye alighted on Léon he smiled, as if at some pleasant thought.
"Was the levée well attended?" asked Hugh, attacking a red sirloin. Unlike the Duke, who never ate more than a roll for breakfast, he made a hearty meal of eggs and bacon, and cold meats, washed down by English ale, especially imported by the Duke for his delectation.
The Duke poured himself out a second cup of coffee.
"Crowded, my dear Hugh. It was in honour of some birthday, or saint's day, or something of the sort."
"Did you see Armand?" Hugh reached out his hand for the mustard.
"I saw Armand, and the Comtesse, and the Vicomte, and everybody I least wished to meet."
"One always does. I suppose La Pompadour was delighted to see you?"
"Oppressively so. The King sat on his throne and smiled benignantly. Just like a coin."
Hugh suspended his fork in mid-air.
"Just like a what?"
A coin. Léon will explain. Or possibly he has forgotten."
Hugh looked inquiringly at the page.
"What is the joke, Léon? Do you know?"
Léon shook his head.
64
