Moreover, François’ manner was equally changed. Gone was the friendly light in his little dark eyes, the protecting, almost patronizing manner which he had grown accustomed to using in his devoted service to the American Red Cross girls. This old Frenchman had his nation’s gift of feeling the part he was called upon by fate to play. Today old François felt himself a servant of the days of the great Louis XIV. Apparently he had never seen his lady’s guests before.
Hobbling along, François conducted the visitors toward the drawing room through a cold, gray stone hall. There was no furniture to be seen except two tall, carved chairs and an enormous shield, hanging suspended from the wall.
Inside the drawing room, however, there was a kind of shabby splendor, very interesting to the four American girls, no one of whom had seen anything like it.
On the floor was a great rug of tapestry showing nymphs and dolphins carrying wreaths of fruit and flowers woven into the design. The blue and rose and brown of the colors had so faded that they were lovelier than any artist’s palette could have painted them.
The four girls sat down in chairs covered with tapestry of the same kind, which they guessed must be almost priceless in value. But there were only a few other articles of furniture in the room—a beautiful old cabinet, a mahogany table inlaid with brass, a Louis XIV sofa, while on the walls were not more than half a dozen pictures by French masters. Nevertheless, the room was complete in beauty and elegance. So the American girls did not dream that once it had been crowded with rare treasures, sold one by one to meet the family necessities.
However, there were only a few minutes in which the guests could make a study of their surroundings. Very soon their hostess entered with old François bowing before her as if she had been an empress. She was accompanied by a young man in the uniform of a French officer.
The Countess Amélie wore a dress of black silk and on her head a cap of lace with the Marie Antoinette point in front. Her hair was exquisitely white and her eyes dark. In spite of the natural coldness and hauteur of her expression she was evidently trying to appear friendly.
Her four guests bowed gravely as she shook hands with them, welcoming them to her home. However, it must be confessed that Eugenia’s bow was even more stiff than her hostess’s.
Also Eugenia frowned, while the other three girls smiled. For the young officer, whom the Countess Amélie afterwards introduced as her son, was Captain Henri Castaigne, whom they had met through Lieutenant Hume in Paris, and upon whom they had seen bestowed the Cross of the Legion of Honor.