"You will easily recognize me—I shall represent the 'Franco-Russe Alliance,'" she answered, with the ready lie of a Russian. "The National emblems and the National colors—the Double Eagle and the fleur-de-lis. And you?"
"The 'Lost Provinces,'" I replied, meeting lie with diplomatic evasion.
The look of annoyance still slumbered in the depths of her dark eyes, and I thought, too, there was the glint of a dawning suspicion; but it was swiftly chased away as she turned with a jest to Monsieur Roché, and after the interchange of a few pleasantries, nodded gayly to us both and rode off.
"You are well matched in one thing," Monsieur Roché suavely remarked, as he watched her retreating figure, "your originality of costume."
"And in another," I replied; "the fact that neither will wear what she has said she will."
The dear man's eyebrows shot upward in bewilderment.
"She will represent 'An Ice Palace' I, 'Carmen.'"
He looked at me for a moment in undisguised admiration, and then sank back and whispered with contented appreciation, "Mon Dieu! you are a wonderful woman."
"And a fortunate one," I replied, "to win the approbation of so accomplished a diplomat."
"Ma chère," he murmured, "men are diplomats by education, women by intuition. It is civilization against nature."