"One question, Frantz," said the prince. "Has this young lady a mother?"
"No, monseigneur, Mlle. Antonine lost her mother when she was in the cradle, and her father died some years ago."
"Is her uncle, President Hubert, married?"
"No, monseigneur."
"How old is she?"
"Fifteen years and a half, monseigneur."
"And is she pretty?"
"Antonine! monseigneur!"
In this exclamation of Frantz, there was almost a reproach, as if it were possible for him not to recognise the beauty of Mlle. Antonine.
"I ask you, Frantz," repeated the archduke, "if this young girl is pretty?"