"But you used to like it yourself," said I.
"Not such company as we see here," she answered, and then after a little she added in a low voice, "Vevette, what would your mother advise if she were here? What would she say?"
I was vexed at being reminded of what was one of my chief drawbacks in my present life, and answered pettishly, that my mother's former life and circumstances had naturally made her rather strict and melancholy in her notions, and that I could not think any one was a better Christian for always wearing a solemn face and denying one's self every pleasure. Theo looked very grave, but she said no more, nor did she again ask me to return with her.
About a fortnight after I came to London, I went with my aunt to a grand entertainment at the house of the French ambassador. I had an entirely new dress for the occasion, and wore my pearl necklace which my lady had given me. My aunt was very solicitous that I should look my best, but when she saw me, she professed herself quite satisfied, and presented me to my uncle with no little pride.
We found the street filled with carriages, and the usual crush and confusion prevailing—horses backing and rearing, coachmen swearing and wheels interlocking—but we reached the door at last, and made our way through the ranks of splendidly dressed ladies and gentlemen to the saloon where the ambassador received his guests. He was a very courtly man, with a smile and a compliment for all, and one of the handsomest and most crafty faces I ever saw.
"And this is my young countrywoman of whom I have heard," said he, addressing himself to me. "I must by and by present her to a friend. I am proud of my countrywoman, madame. Indeed, she would be a credit to any nation on earth."
"There, Vevette, your fame is established as a beauty," whispered my aunt, as the crowd pushed us on, "since monsieur the count hath pronounced such an eulogium upon it. Is not this a splendid scene?"
It was indeed, and my eyes wandered from one group to another, till they were suddenly arrested by a sight which for a moment almost made my blood stand still. Was it my father himself, or was it his ghost—that handsome gentleman in the blazing French uniform who stood regarding me with such an eager gaze? Could it be that he had not been killed after all? My eyes grew dim for a moment, and when I looked again the gentleman had disappeared.
"What ails you, Vevette?" said my aunt, in alarm. "You are as white as your dress! Gentlemen, make way for us, I beg, my niece is not well."
Way was made to a window, and I was placed on a seat while one gentleman brought water and another wine, and ladies proffered essence bottles, and vinaigrettes. I recovered myself with a great effort, for I was quite ashamed of the commotion I had made. However, my aunt would not have me move at once, but took a seat near me, and we were soon surrounded by a circle of gallants.