CHAPTER X
CONSTANCE AND THE SOLDIER
“Are you the clerk?” A well-modulated voice; a silvery crown of hair leaning over the counter of the St. Charles; blue eyes, lighted with unobtrusive inquiry.
The small, quiet-looking man addressed glanced up. “No,” he said; “I am the proprietor. This”––waving his hand to a resplendent-appearing person––“is the clerk.”
Whereupon the be-diamonded individual indicated (about whom an entire chapter has been written by an observing English traveler!) came forward leisurely; a Brummell in attire; an Aristarchus for taste! Since his period––or reign––there have been many imitators; but he was the first; indeed, created the office, and is deserving of a permanent place in American annals. “His formality just bordered on stiffness,” wrote the interested Briton, as though he were studying some new example of the human species; “his conversation was elegant, but pointed, as he was gifted with a cultured economy of language. He accomplished 489 by inflection what many people can only attain through volubility.”
“Yes?” he interrogatively remarked, gazing down at the caller in the present instance.
“Is Colonel Saint-Prosper stopping here?”
“Yes.”