When the Princess of Palmarosa appeared at the top of the stairs, Michel thought that he saw before him a girl of fifteen, she was so lithe and slender in figure and in attitude; but, at each stair that she descended, he discovered an additional year upon her brow; and when he saw her near at hand, he concluded that she was about thirty. That did not prevent her from being beautiful; not resplendent and superb, but pure and sweet, like the bunch of white cyclamen she carried in her hand. She had a reputation for grace and charm rather than for beauty; for she had never been a coquette, and did not seek to create a sensation. Many much less beautiful women had kindled passions because they had chosen so to do. Princess Agatha had never furnished food for gossip, and if there had ever been any profound emotion in her life, society had never had any positive knowledge of it.
She was very charitable, indeed, it might be said that her only occupation was the distribution of alms; but it was done without parade or ostentation, and she was not called the mother of the poor. In a majority of cases the people whom she assisted did not know the source of the assistance they received. She was not a very regular attendant at church, although she did not avoid religious services. She had artistic tastes, and surrounded herself most discerningly with the most beautiful objects and the noblest minds. But she did not shine in the centre of her social system, nor did she make a pedestal of her connections or her wealth. In everything it seemed that she preferred to do as all the world did, and that, whether from apathy, from good taste, or from inward timidity, she had made it an object in life never to attract notice. There never was a more inoffensive woman. People esteemed her, loved her without enthusiasm, appreciated her worth without jealousy. But was she appreciated at her true worth? That is something that it would have been difficult to say. She was not supposed to have a great intellect. The highest praise that her oldest friends bestowed upon her was to say that she was an absolutely reliable person and of a very even disposition.
All this could be readily seen in the first glance that one cast upon her, and young Michel, as he watched her descend the staircase with careless grace, felt his aversion vanish with his dread. It was impossible to retain a feeling of irritation in presence of so pure, and calm, and sweet a face. But, as he had prepared, in his anger, to defy the awe-inspiring glance of a domineering and splendid beauty, he felt as if his mind were relieved of a great weight when he saw an ordinary woman. He had an instinctive feeling that, even if she came to scold, she would have neither the energy, nor, perhaps, the spirit to be insulting. His heart became calmer, and he gazed at her with increasing tranquillity, as if the refreshing fluid emanating from a serene mind had found its way from her to him.
She was richly but simply dressed in a heavy silk gown of a dull milky white, without ornament. A small circle of diamonds embellished her glossy black hair, parted in bands over a smooth, pure forehead. Doubtless she could have worn richer jewels, but her coronet was a work of art of most excellent workmanship, and did not weary her small, admirably poised head with a dragging weight. Her shoulders, half bare, had lost the interesting thinness of early youth, and had not yet attained the luxuriant rotundity of the third or fourth youth. There were still some delicate lines in her figure, and in her every movement a careless suppleness, which seemed to be unaware of its own existence and to pose for no one.
With the end of her fan she slowly waved aside the footman and the majordomo, who were exerting themselves to make room for her, and passed before them, stepping easily and without awkward haste over the boards and rolls of carpet which still lay in her path; and with a sort of heedlessness, humble or lordly, as you please, allowing the long folds of her beautiful white silk dress to drag in the dust left by the feet of the mechanics. With no sign of repugnance, perhaps without observing them, she brushed against the perspiring workmen, who could not step aside quickly enough. She passed through a group of gardeners, who were moving huge boxes, and did not seem to notice or to be disturbed by the danger of being crushed or wounded. She returned the salutations of those who saluted her, without the slightest assumption of superiority or patronage, and when she was in the midst of the swarm of men, boards, ladders, and canvas, she halted very calmly, looked about to see what was finished and what was not, and said in a mild and encouraging voice:
"Well, gentlemen, do you hope to have everything finished in time? We have barely half an hour."
"I will answer for everything, my dear princess," replied Pier-Angelo, approaching her with a cheerful air; "don't you see that I am putting my hand to everything?"
"In that case, I have no fear," said she, "and I rely also upon everybody here. It would be a pity to leave such a beautiful piece of work unfinished. I am exceedingly pleased. It is all conceived with taste and executed with great care. I thank you very much for the pains you have taken to do the work well, gentlemen, and this fête will redound to your glory."
"My son Michel will have his share in it, I trust," rejoined the old decorator; "will your ladyship deign to permit me to present him to you? Come, Michel, come and kiss the princess's hand, my son; she is a kind princess, you see!"
Michel did not move a muscle to approach them. Although the way in which the princess had scolded his father had touched him and won his heart, he was by no means inclined to humble himself before her. He was well aware that the Italian custom of kissing a lady's hand denotes either the respectful homage of a friend or the prostration of an inferior, and, having no right to claim the former title, he did not choose to descend to the other. He removed his velvet cap and stood erect, affecting to look the princess in the face with perfect self-possession.