“Madame la Duchesse, I present to you His Highness the Prince of Orange—Monseigneur, Madame Lavalette.”
She rose, and each took a swift look at the other.
William saw a woman of a dazzling fairness of hair and complexion, and bright blue eyes, wearing a low-cut and rich gown of green velvet; and Madame Lavalette beheld a slight youth owning a remarkable face, plainly dressed, and of a haughty demeanour.
She gave him a glance of pretty hesitation.
“Alas, I have not your language, Monseigneur!”
“I can speak yours, Madame,” he answered in French.
“Ah, I have heard that Your Highness is an accomplished linguist.”
“It is not an accomplishment, Madame, but a necessity.”
“Many princes do not think so.”
Her eyes flattered him though her lips were unsmiling.