"Lazarre Williams," supplemented Annabel.
"Monsieur Lazarre Williams, whatever your lot in life, you will have one advantage over me; you will be an American citizen."
"Haven't I that doleful advantage myself?" mourned Annabel. "A Baltimore convent, an English governess—a father that may never go back to France!"
"Mademoiselle, all advantages of nationality, of person, of mind, of heart, are yours!"
So tipping the interview with a compliment he rose up, and Annabel rose also, making him a deep courtesy, and giving him her hand to be led back to the floor. He kissed her white forefinger, and bowed to me.
"You have suggested some interesting thoughts, monsieur prince of the woods. Perhaps you may yet take your turn on the throne of France. What would you do in that case?"
"I would make the people behave themselves if I had to grind them to powder."
"Now there spoke old Louis XIV!" laughed young Jerome Bonaparte. We both bowed, and he passed down with Annabel into the hall.
I did not know what made Madame de Ferrier watch me from her distant place with widened eyes.
Miss Chantry spoke shrilly to her brother behind me.