“But you mustn’t give him his title,” she added. “He is a çi-devant, that is, an ex-noble, a Republican. He has dropped the ‘de,’ and must be addressed as Citoyen Henrion.”
“And you are the Citoyenne Pauline,” smiled Wilfrid.
“My faith, no!” replied the young lady, with a flash of energy. “I am the Baroness de Runö in my own right; and claim the title due to my rank.” Then, turning to Wilfrid’s rescuer, who, during this dialogue, had been standing near by, but out of earshot, she said, “François, conduct Viscount Courtenay to the Porphyry Suite. My lord,” she added, with a graceful inclination of her head, “I hope to see you again within half an hour.”
“Truly, my lines have fallen in pleasant places,” thought Wilfrid, as he followed François to the apartments assigned him.
CHAPTER VIII
A CHARMING TÊTE-À-TÊTE
As Pauline was about to leave the entrance-hall, the double doors leading from the street suddenly opened, and in walked her father, the Citoyen Henrion, Ambassador of the Republic.
He was a man close upon his sixtieth year, with silver hair and a dignified presence. His countenance expressed mildness and amiability, rather than force of character or diplomatic subtlety; in truth, his appointment was due more to his polished manners than to anything else. The parvenu ambassadors of the Republic had often, from lack of dignity and ignorance of etiquette, excited the sneers and laughter of foreign courts. The Marquis de Vaucluse was sent to St. Petersburg to show that the race of gentlemen was not extinct in France, and that the new government could count among its sons men distinguished both by birth and manners. He conscientiously strove to do his duty to the Republic, and when reproached for relinquishing the traditions of his order, he was wont to say, “I serve France, not Napoleon: a nation, and not a government.”
There was at this moment a cloud on his brow, and Pauline perceived its cause in the shape of Lieutenant Voronetz, who, with a very lugubrious face, followed hard upon the heels of the Ambassador.
“This may be fun to you, Baroness,” he remarked, “but it means death to me.”