The tennis-court, in a word, presented as different an
aspect as possible from that which it had worn in the morning.
The sharp crack of the ball, as it bounded from side to side, was
almost lost in the crisp laughter and babel of voices; which as I
entered rose into a perfect uproar, Mademoiselle having just
flung a whole lapful of roses across the court in return for some
witticism. These falling short of the gallery had lighted on the
head of the astonished Diego, causing a temporary cessation of
play, during which I took my seat.
Madame de Lude's saucy eye picked me out in a moment. "Oh, the
grave man!" she cried. "Crown him, too, with roses."
"As they crowned the skull at the feast, madame?" I answered,
saluting her gallantly.
"No, but as the man whom the King delighteth to honour," she
answered, making a face at me. "Ha! ha! I am not afraid! I am
not afraid! I am not afraid!"
There was a good deal of laughter at this. "What shall I do to
her, M. de Rosny?" Mademoiselle cried out, coming to my rescue.
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