The Countess rose, smiled at me with discreet courtesy, and, resuming her ordinary voice, said in a low tone, "Till Saturday evening, then?"
I bowed as a sign of assent, but felt rather embarrassed on account of my sacred character.
CHAPTER VII
AN EMBASSY BALL
"Don't say that it is not pretty," added my aunt, brushing the firedog with the tip of her tiny boot. "It lends an especial charm to the look, I must acknowledge. A cloud of powder is most becoming, a touch of rouge has a charming effect, and even that blue shadow that they spread, I don't know how, under the eye. What coquettes some women are! Did you notice Anna's eyes at Madame de Sieurac's last Thursday? Is it allowable? Frankly, can you understand how any one can dare?"
"Well, aunt, I did not object to those eyes, and between ourselves they had a softness."
"I do not deny that, they had a softness."
"And at the same time such a strange brilliancy beneath that half shadow, an expression of such delicious languor."
"Yes, certainly, but, after all, it is making an exhibition of one's self. But for that—it is very pretty sometimes—I have seen in the Bois charming creatures under their red, their black, and their blue, for they put on blue too, God forgive me!"
"Yes, aunt, Polish blue; it is put on with a stump; it is for the veins."