The château de Beaumanoir was all ablaze with lights. Servants were in plenty, and a supper which would have commanded even Bess Lukens’s respect was set out,—an English custom which Madame de Beaumanoir had retained, as she retained all her other English customs. Crowds attended her levees, as crowds always will when there is meat and drink and amusement free.
Roger entered the grand saloon to speak to Madame de Beaumanoir meanwhile, looking out with a beating heart for Michelle. Yes, there she stood, in her usual place near the old duchess. She was looking unusually charming. She was singular, not only in eschewing powder, but in not wearing the gigantic head-dress of the age,—a head-dress much disliked by Louis the Fourteenth, but which the power of one of the most absolute monarchs in the world was unable to abolish. As Roger drew near Michelle, some gentlemen and ladies were complimenting her upon the favor shown her by the King on her late visit to Marly-le-Roi.
“’Tis said that the King not only spoke of you after you left, but complimented you the next day,” said one.
“’Twas very kind of his Majesty,” said Michelle; and the old Duchess, turning to Roger who was nearby, cried out,—
“’Twas all because she wore her own hair and no head-dress. By such things is the favor of kings won!”
“And is it true, mademoiselle, that his Majesty walked with you by the side of the canal for half an hour, and then, to have more private talk, went with you toward the dairy in the wood?” some one asked.
“The King walked a little with me,” replied Michelle, coolly—she had by no means that overpowering subservience to royalty which was the prevailing fashion. Yet, Roger Egremont, keen of wit, saw that she was rather more pleased than she would admit. What young girl would not be, singled out for conversation by the greatest monarch in the world?
“I think, mademoiselle,” Roger ventured, “the dressing of your hair was a master stroke. I hear the King has labored incessantly, but vainly, against those monstrous head-dresses for years; and when his Majesty saw a woman of taste like yourself, mademoiselle, why should he not favor you?”
Michelle, instead of keeping to the safe and steady ground of Louis the Fourteenth and head-dresses, asked very softly and sweetly a question she thought would be most embarrassing to Roger.
“Who was that handsome creature I saw you speaking with in the forest this morning?”