"Full of genuine Southern passions, madame, worthy of the bright sunlight of Palermo."
Two or three young women put forward their flower-laden heads to hear what the colonel was saying.
"He made ravages in the garrison last year, I promise you," he continued. "We fellows shall be obliged to pick a quarrel with him, in order to get rid of him."
"If he's a Lovelace, so much the worse for him," said a young lady with a satirical cast of countenance; "I can't endure men whom everybody loves."
The ultramontane countess waited until the colonel had walked away, when she tapped Mademoiselle de Nangy's fingers lightly with her fan and said:
"Don't speak so; you don't know here what to think of a man who wants to be liked."
"Do you think, pray, that all they have to do is to want it?" said the damsel with the long sardonic eyes.
"Mademoiselle," said the colonel, coming up again to invite her to dance; "take care that the charming Raymon does not overhear you."
Mademoiselle de Nangy laughed; but during the rest of the evening the pretty group of which she was one dared not mention Monsieur de Ramière's name again.