"I am inexpressibly grieved to be the cause of any disappointment to you, Madame," replied Calvert, calmly. "But as for paint and feathers, surely they can be no novelties to you," and here he looked meaningly around at the bedaubed, bedecked ladies of fashion (though 'tis but fair to say that the young beauty before him disdained the use of furbelows or cosmetics, as well she might with such a brilliant complexion); "and as for tomahawks—the ladies of this country need no more deadly weapons than their own bright glances. But truly, Madame, did you expect to see a young savage?"
"I was hoping to," she said, demurely. "'Twould have been more interesting than—than—" And here she stopped as if in seeming embarrassment and loss for words. "Is not America full of them?" she asked, innocently.
"Assuredly, Madame, as you must know, since they have so often been your allies!"
As Calvert spoke, all the amusement and good-nature died out of Madame de St. André's face, and she resumed her mask, becoming again the haughty and distant young beauty.
"But 'tis not an uncivilized land by any means," went on Calvert, who was young and ardent enough to espouse warmly the cause of his country from even the badinage of a spoilt young girl. "There is much learning and the most gracious manners to be found there, as you must also know, since we have been able to spare two such shining examples of both to this court—Dr. Franklin and Mr. Jefferson."
"Monsieur does not mean to compare the civilization of his own country to that of ours?" contemptuously demanded St. Aulaire, who, up to that time, had stood superciliously by, taking no part in the conversation.
"Indeed, no!" returned Calvert, with suspicious promptness. "In my mind there can be no comparison, and surely you will acknowledge that a country which has produced the greatest man of the age is not one to be despised."
"And who may that be?" asked Monsieur de St. Aulaire, with lazy insolence.
"I had thought, my lord," returned Calvert, bowing low, "that the subject of so enlightened a state as you say France is would surely have heard the name of General Washington. Monsieur does not read history?"
"'Tis impossible to read yours, since you have none," returned St.
Aulaire, with a contemptuous little laugh.