“You see, Miss Arnot, Mr. Hale and I have both been reading a history of France in the eighteenth century which he was kind enough to lend me. That is why I am talking in this learned fashion. Perhaps you would like to read it later?”
Marguerite nodded, as David answered:
“Thought we had agreed, Miss Graham, that Versailles is more interesting at present than at any time in its history.
“I have been trying to recall a few lines of the verse you composed the other day: ‘Now one knows of the foolishness of kings, one learns a new respect for common things.’ Still one can but wonder if a new and democratic world will ever create any place as magnificent as this great park? Remember, you have promised me, if I can obtain the necessary permission, that you will go with me some afternoon to the Queen’s garden, where we had so unexpected an introduction to each other. You should have chosen a warmer night for your adventure. How lovely it must be when the flowers and shrubs are in bloom!”
Bettina flushed and laughed.
“Don’t talk of my adventure; I shall always be ashamed of my curiosity and my stupidity, also of being thought to be either an anarchist or a spy. Perhaps I shall not be able to keep my promise. Who knows whether I shall ever be allowed inside the little garden again!”
This afternoon Bettina was wearing a bright blue cloth coat with a collar of moleskin and a newly purchased French hat, which had the air of having been designed especially for her. Her eyes were clear and brilliant with interest in her companions and their extraordinary surroundings; her color was deeper than usual, her fair hair, suggesting the familiar phrase, encircled her small head like a crown.
Marguerite Arnot smiled, although not unconscious of the contrast between her own simple black costume and Bettina’s, and of the deeper contrast in their two lives.
“In spite of Miss Graham’s objection to kings, I believe her family and friends oftentimes call her ‘Princess’.”
This time Bettina really was embarrassed.