A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 47: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE WHITE BADGE, 43 massive bed, heavily draped with curtains of dark vel- vet, and just opposite was a broad window opening out upon a balcony and through which could be seen the shining river and a distant view of the towers of Notre Dame. | Near the alcove stood a prie-dieu in front of a small altar surmounted by a large ivory crucifix, which gleamed with a weird whiteness in the somewhat dimly lighted room. The duchess—a worthy occupant of the noble apart- ment, in her trailing robes of deep purple velvet with a Marie Stuart cap upon the snowy masses of her hair— sat in a large armchair near the fireplace where a log or two blazed fitfully upon the hearth, for the night was a trifle chilly. Near her stood an elderly man, spare almost to atten- uation, and with features which were striking in their intellectuality. And indeed Ambrose Pare, the favorite physician of the king and the queen mother, was a man of no ordinary attainments, both of head and heart. The duchess had known him from her girlhood up, and, in spite of the fact that he was a Huguenot of the strict- est dye, she trusted him almost as much as she did her father confessor himself. “Pardon me, gracious madame,” the physician was saying, “if I venture the opinion that you pass too harsh a judgment upon yourson.” He paused and then added with emphasis: ‘“ Your ozlyson.”’ The duchess sighed, and a tear gathered slowly in the corner of her eye: “ Alas, my only son!” “The duke is young,” persisted Ambrose Pare, seek- ing for excuses to comfort her, “and és “Oh, Master Ambrose,” interrupted the duchess, with an impatient gesture, “the duke his father,” and Eomichbooks (©)