"On second thought," said she, "I believe I will ask you to present her to me instead of the minister, if you will; I would like to see how she takes the 'Mademoiselle de Villa Réal.'"
So there was nothing for it but to brace up my courage and go forward to speak to mademoiselle. Nothing could have been sweeter and more friendly than her greeting, and with no trace of embarrassment, though I thought the French minister regarded me with a coldly critical eye. Beside his magnificence I did feel rather shabby; for, though Yorke had done his best to freshen and restore my purple velvets by steaming and other appliances, they still were the worse for much service (especially the encounter with the chevalier), and for many packings in saddle-bags. Of my lace ruffles I was justly proud, for no courtier's in the room were finer or richer, and my sword and scabbard were not to be ashamed of, for though not so bejeweled as some, they were of the finest workmanship and inlaid with gold and pearl.
Mademoiselle presented me to the French minister very prettily, however; and though I thought his greeting somewhat scant in courtesy, I attributed it to the suspicions he would naturally have, as mademoiselle's guardian, of a young gentleman of whom he knew nothing, and whom mademoiselle received so kindly.
I at once preferred Mistress Erskine's request, but the minister gave Pelagie no chance to reply.
"I will myself present the comtesse to the wife of the British ambassador," he said with alacrity, and led her away to Mistress Erskine.
I saw that he had availed himself of this opportunity to cut short my interview with mademoiselle; but, not to be outdone in diplomacy, I followed leisurely, and was in time to hear the minister say:
"It gives me pleasure to present to Madame Erskine the Comtesse de Baloit." And I saw by the profound curtsy Mistress Erskine made (and which mademoiselle returned very prettily, but with a touch of condescension, I thought) that that name meant something more to her than it did to me.
After the fashion of women, the two began at once a lively chatter in French, and I saw myself like to be shut out in the cold, with no further opportunity for converse with mademoiselle. But I would not desert my post, hoping sooner or later to get my chance. And I was rewarded; for in a few minutes Mistress Erskine was called to receive another presentation. But as she turned away she whispered in my ear:
"Be careful how you behave, sir; she is of the blood royal!"
Blood royal or not, she would always be Mademoiselle Pelagie to me, and I was not going to lose my opportunity.