Monsieur Duval did not press his request. The Frenchman had very polished manners. Instead in a full baritone voice he sang the “Marseillaise.” His audience was profoundly stirred. “You are a patriot, Mr. Duval,” Mr. Stuart remarked.
Monsieur Duval’s expression changed. But he said nothing. It was impossible to translate his peculiar look.
“Do sing for us, Countess,” begged Grace later. “I know you have a wonderful voice.”
“Remember, you are to give us a song of your country,” Mr. Duval persisted.
The countess made no reply to him. But in a voice clear as a bell she sang:
“Thou art like unto a flower.”
“But that is an English song,” expostulated Mr. Duval when the countess had finished.
“Yes, but it was written first by a German poet: Du bist wie eine blume,” sang the countess, this time in German. “Shall I try it in French and Italian for you? The little song has been translated into every tongue.”
It was evident to her listeners that the Countess Sophia von Stolberg was proficient in half a dozen languages.
Grace thought she caught a glimpse of concealed amusement on Madame de Villiers’s face. But the stately old woman said nothing.