“She would do for a court,” he ruminated.
Renée meanwhile swam away like a graceful bird in a maze of sunshine. M. Rivé was delighted. He had been dancing with Madame Aubry, who had grown rather stout, and Madame Garis, who was always a little stiff, as she had descended on both sides from nobility, though it was long ago; but she desired to keep up a certain state. The mothers expected to have the young men pay them the compliment of at least one dance.
But what grace and elegance this young creature possessed! And the pretty, flower-like face was enchanting in its enjoyment.
“Do you often have such balls as this?” he asked presently. “I was quite averse to coming to St. Louis, but I hardly dared decline the appointment. I thought you—” and he paused.
“Well, what did you think, monsieur?” with an arch look and in a merry voice. “That we were part Indian and lived in wigwams?”
“Oh, no!” coloring. “But we are quite gay at New Orleans. There are many Spanish people, and the creole women are very beautiful and exquisite dancers, though they seem a race quite by themselves. And we have a theatre. You see, it is the great port. So much trade comes to us—the vessels from Europe, and from some of the cities in the colonies that have so lately gained their independence.”
“I shall go to New Orleans some time. My uncle has promised me. In the summer, perhaps.”
“Oh, not next summer!”
“Why not?” with a dainty toss of the head.
“Because I am to stay here a year whether or no.”