"That there will always be people in love with her," said the Princess, "and young people. She has charm as well as beauty, and how rare that is!"
"Yes," said Anikin, pensively, "how rare that is."
Kathleen looked at the mirror as if she was appraising Donna Laura's beauty, but in reality it was to see whether Lancelot was talking to her. As far as she could see he seemed to be rather silent. General conversation, with a lot of Italian intermixed with it, was going up from the table like fireworks. Kathleen turned to Count Tilsit and made conversation to him, while Anikin and the Princess began to talk in a passionately argumentative manner of all the beauties they had known. The Princess had come to life once more. Mrs. Knolles, having done her duty, relapsed into a comfortable conversation with Arkright. They understood each other without effort.
The Italian party finished their dinner first, and went out on to the terrace, and as they walked out of the room the extraordinary dignity of Donna Laura's carriage struck the whole room. Whatever anyone might think of her looks now, there was no doubt that her presence still carried with it the authority that only great beauty, however much it may be lessened by time, confers.
"Elle est encore très belle," said Princess Oulchikov, voicing the thoughts of the whole party.
Mrs. Knolles suggested going out. Shawls were fetched and coffee was served just outside the hotel on a stone terrace.
Soon after they had sat down, Lancelot Stukely walked up to them. He was not much changed, Kathleen thought. A little grey about the temples, a little bit thinner, and slightly more tanned—his face had been burnt in the tropics—but the slow, honest eyes were the same. He said how-do-you-do to Mrs. Knolles and to herself, and was presented to the others.
Mrs. Knolles asked him to sit down.
"I must go back presently," he said, "but may I stay a minute?"
He sat down next to Kathleen.