"It makes me think of that last night at Monticello, Ned," he said, turning to Calvert, "when we toasted General Washington and bade farewell to Mr. Jefferson."
"'Tis a far cry from Paris to Monticello, Marquis," said Calvert, smiling, "and 'tis a little strange that we should all be gathered here as we were there, discussing our dear General."
"And so your demi-god, your General Washington, is elected to the Presidency," said Adrienne, speaking to Calvert. "'Tis unnecessary to ask whether the choice meets with your approval."
"There could be none other, Madame," returned Calvert.
"You are a loyal admirer of General Washington's, Monsieur. I see you know how to approve as well as to rebuke. 'Tis much pleasanter to be approved of than to be rebuked, as I know by personal experience," said Adrienne, with a slight blush and a half glance at Calvert. She was so lovely as she spoke, there was such sunny laughter in her blue eyes, that Calvert gazed at her, lost in guilty wonder as to how he could ever have doubted this beautiful creature, how he could ever have condemned her by a thought. The inscrutable look in his serious eyes embarrassed her.
"Of what are you thinking, Monsieur?" she asked, after an instant's silence.
"I was wondering who could have the audacity to rebuke Madame de St.
André."
"'Twas a very rash young gentleman from General Washington's country," returned Adrienne, smiling suddenly, "who, by his courage, saved Madame de St. André from the consequences of a foolish action, and who had the still greater courage to silently, but unmistakably, show his disapprobation of her."
"'Tis impossible that he should be a fellow-countryman of mine, Madame," said Calvert, smiling, too. "It would indeed be a rash and ill-considered person who could find fault with Madame de St. André."
"Another compliment, Monsieur Calvert! That is the second one you have given me. If you are not more careful I shall begin to doubt your sincerity! I am not jesting, sir," she says, suddenly serious. "I know not quite why I trust you so implicitly, but so it is, and, as sincerity is a rare virtue in our world, I should hate to lose my belief in yours. It takes no very keen vision to see my faults, sir. I recognize and deplore them," and she looked at the young man in so winning and frank a fashion as she rose from the table, that Calvert thought to himself for the hundredth time that he had never seen anyone so incomparably beautiful and charming.