"Ah! my little Chauvelin!" she said with unconcerned gaiety, and extending her tiny hand to him."Monsieur and I are old friends, your Royal Highness.""Ah, then," said the Prince, this time very graciously, "you are doubly welcome, Monsieur.""There is someone else I would crave permission to present to your Royal Highness," here interposed Lord Grenville.
"Ah! who is it?" asked the Prince.
"Madame la Comtesse de Tournay de Basserive and her family, who have but recently come from France.""By all means!--They are among the lucky ones then!"Lord Grenville turned in search of the Comtesse, who sat at the further end of the room.
"Lud love me!" whispered his Royal Highness to Marguerite, as soon as he had caught sight of the rigid figure of the old lady; "Lud love me! she looks very virtuous and very melancholy.""Faith, your Royal Highness," she rejoined with a smile, "virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant when it is crushed.""Virtue, alas!" sighed the Prince, "is mostly unbecoming to your charming sex, Madame.""Madame la Comtesse de Tournay de Basserive," said Lord Grenville, introducing the lady.
"This is a pleasure, Madame; my royal father, as you know, is ever glad to welcome those of your compatriots whom France has driven from her shores.""Your Royal Highness is ever gracious," replied the Comtesse with becoming dignity.Then, indicating her daughter, who stood timidly by her side: "My daughter Suzanne, Monseigneur," she said.
"Ah! charming!--charming!" said the Prince, "and now allow me, Comtesse, to introduce you, Lady Blakeney, who honours us with her friendship.You and she will have much to say to one another, I vow.
Every compatriot of Lady Blakeney's is doubly welcome for her sake...her friends are our friends...her enemies, the enemies of England."Marguerite's blue eyes had twinkled with merriment at this gracious speech from her exalted friend.The Comtesse de Tournay, who lately had so flagrantly insulted her, was here receiving a public lesson, at which Marguerite could not help but rejoice.But the Comtesse, for whom respect of royalty amounted almost to a religion, was too well-schooled in courtly etiquette to show the slightest sign of embarrassment, as the two ladies curtsied ceremoniously to one another.
"His Royal Highness is ever gracious, Madame," said Marguerite, demurely, and with a wealth of mischief in her twinkling blue eyes, "but there is no need for his kind of meditation....
Your amiable reception of me at our last meeting still dwells pleasantly in my memory.""We poor exiles, Madame," rejoined the Comtesse, frigidly, "show our gratitude to England by devotion to the wishes of Monseigneur.""Madame!" said Marguerite, with another ceremonious curtsey.
"Madame," responded the Comtesse with equal dignity.
The Prince in the meanwhile was saying a few gracious words to the young Vicomte.
