"I have found the recipe," said Aurelia. "Here it is." And she put
into Loveday's hand a yellow letter, bearing the title in scribbled
writing, "_Poure Embellire et blanchire la Pel, de part de Maistre
Raoul, Parfumeur de la Royne Catherine_."
CHAPTER XXXII. LIONS.
The helmet of darkness Pallas donned,
To hide her presence from the sight of man.
_Derby's_ HOMER.
The next morning Loveday returned with orders from Lady Belamour that
Miss Delavie should translate the French recipe, and make a fair copy
of it. It was not an easy task, for the MS. was difficult and the
French old; whereas Aurelia lived on the modern side of the _Acadamie_,
her French was that of Fenelon and Racine.
However, she went to work as best she could in her cool corner,
guessing at many of the words by lights derived from _Comenius_, and
had just made out that the chief ingredients were pounded pearls and
rubies, mixed with white of eggs laid by pullets under a year old,
during the waxing of the April moon, when she heard voices chattering
in the hall, and a girlish figure appeared in a light cloak and calash,
whom Loveday seemed to be guiding, and yet keeping as much repressed
as she could.
"Gracious Heavens!" were the first words to be distinguished; "what a
frightful old place; enough to make one die of the dismals! I won't
live here when I'm married, I promise Sir Amyas! Bless me, is this
the wench?"
"Your Ladyship promised to be careful," entreated Loveday, while
Aurelia rose, with a graceful gesture of acknowledgment, which,
however remained unnoticed, the lady apparently considering herself
unseen.
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