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"Poor Clement! More than twenty years ago, Lord Ludlow and I spent a
winter in Paris. He had many friends there; perhaps not very good or
very wise men, but he was so kind that he liked every one, and every
one liked him. We had an apartment, as they call it there, in the
Rue de Lille; we had the first-floor of a grand hotel, with the
basement for our servants. On the floor above us the owner of the
house lived, a Marquise de Crequy, a widow. They tell me that the
Crequy coat-of-arms is still emblazoned, after all these terrible
years, on a shield above the arched porte-cochere, just as it was
then, though the family is quite extinct. Madame de Crequy had only
one son, Clement, who was just the same age as my Urian--you may see
his portrait in the great hall--Urian's, I mean." I knew that Master
Urian had been drowned at sea; and often had I looked at the
presentment of his bonny hopeful face, in his sailor's dress, with
right hand outstretched to a ship on the sea in the distance, as if
he had just said, "Look at her! all her sails are set, and I'm just
off." Poor Master Urian! he went down in this very ship not a year
after the picture was taken! But now I will go back to my lady's
story. "I can see those two boys playing now," continued she,
softly, shutting her eyes, as if the better to call up the vision,
"as they used to do five-and-twenty years ago in those old-fashioned
French gardens behind our hotel. Many a time have I watched them
from my windows. It was, perhaps, a better play-place than an
English garden would have been, for there were but few flower-beds,
and no lawn at all to speak about; but, instead, terraces and
balustrades and vases and flights of stone steps more in the Italian
style; and there were jets-d'eau, and little fountains that could be
set playing by turning water-cocks that were hidden here and there.
How Clement delighted in turning the water on to surprise Urian, and
how gracefully he did the honours, as it were, to my dear, rough,
sailor lad! Urian was as dark as a gipsy boy, and cared little for
his appearance, and resisted all my efforts at setting off his black
eyes and tangled curls; but Clement, without ever showing that he
thought about himself and his dress, was always dainty and elegant,
even though his clothes were sometimes but threadbare. He used to be
dressed in a kind of hunter's green suit, open at the neck and halfway
down the chest to beautiful old lace frills; his long golden
curls fell behind just like a girl's, and his hair in front was cut
over his straight dark eyebrows in a line almost as straight. Urian
learnt more of a gentleman's carefulness and propriety of appearance
from that lad in two months than he had done in years from all my
lectures. I recollect one day, when the two boys were in full romp--
and, my window being open, I could hear them perfectly--and Urian was
daring Clement to some scrambling or climbing, which Clement refused
to undertake, but in a hesitating way, as though he longed to do it
if some reason had not stood in the way; and at times, Urian, who was
hasty and thoughtless, poor fellow, told Clement that he was afraid.
'Fear!' said the French boy, drawing himself up; 'you do not know
what you say. If you will be here at six to-morrow morning, when it
is only just light, I will take that starling's nest on the top of
yonder chimney.' 'But why not now, Clement?' said Urian, putting his
arm round Clement's neck. 'Why then, and not now, just when we are
in the humour for it?' 'Because we De Crequys are poor, and my
mother cannot afford me another suit of clothes this year, and yonder
stone carving is all jagged, and would tear my coat and breeches.
Now, to-morrow morning I could go up with nothing on but an old
shirt.'
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