"You're next to me," said the obliging diplomat. "All the better. We can chat while we're waiting."
Glad of an opportunity of impressing me, he told me the names of the distinguished individuals around us: Count Bela, the Austro-Hungarian Minister, almost swallowed up in furs and an astrakhan cap with a silver aigrette; M. Nekludoff, the Russian Minister, in a very unassuming frock-coat; Monsignor Kreppel, with his heavy gold cross on a purple sash, and Rector Etlicher, of Kiel Academy.
Suddenly I pressed his arm. A most attractive young woman had just taken her place in the first row of the stand immediately in front of us. She might have been twenty or twenty-five. Dark, extremely smooth-skinned and languid in her movements, she was wearing a long blue coat and skirt edged with skunk. One of her arms hanging loosely by her side, ended in one of those huge muffs so fashionable at that time. A toque of skunk framed the heavy black coils of her hair.
She noticed Marçais and greeted him with a languid bow.
"Who is she?" I murmured.
"What," he said ecstatically. "You mean to say you don't know the Maid of Honour, the Grand Duchess's inseparable confidante, Fräulein Melusine von Graffenfried? What on earth have you been doing with your time since you came?"
"What a beauty she is!" I said.
"She's a beauty all right! You're not the first to make that discovery. But you'd better realize, my boy," he added, with a curious sly glance, "that there's nothing doing. Besides, you'll forget her existence when the Grand Duchess arrives. Meanwhile she'll do, won't she ..."
Translating words into deeds he touched our beautiful neighbour gently on the shoulder.
"Fräulein von Graffenfried, there are some things in the castle we don't value as we should. Here is one of its residents, who has not yet been presented to you and now solicits that honour. My fellow-countryman, Monsieur Raoul Vignerte, tutor to His Highness Duke Joachim."