I had leisure for these reflections whilst my cousin danced the first quadrille with the Archduke Stanislaus. Nothing was more suited to display the graces of the princess's person than the slow movements of the dance. I anxiously awaited my turn; and I succeeded in concealing my emotion when I led her to the quadrille.
"Does your royal highness sanction my calling you cousin?" said I.
"Oh, yes, cousin, I am always delighted to obey my father."
"I rejoice in this familiarity, since I have learnt from my aunt to know you."
"My father has often spoken of you, cousin; and what may, perhaps, astonish you," added she, timidly, "I also knew you by sight; for one day the Abbess of Ste. Hermangeld, your aunt, for whom I have the greatest respect, showed me your picture."
"As a page of the sixteenth century?"
"Yes, cousin; and my father was malicious enough to tell me that it was an ancestor of ours, and spoke so highly of his courage and his other qualities that our family ought to be proud of their descent from him."
"Alas, cousin, I fear my resemblance to my portrait is not great!"
"You are mistaken, cousin," said the princess. "For at the end of the concert I recognised you immediately, in spite of the difference of costume." Then, wishing to change the conversation, she added, "How charmingly M. Liszt plays!—does he not?"
"Yes. How attentively you listened to him!"