“Look round. Tell me what flower is most in evidence to-night?”
Thus bidden, Dunoisse turned his glance questingly about. A moment gave the answer. The corsage of every lady present, no matter of what costly hothouse blooms her bouquet and wreath might be composed, had its bunch of violets; the coat of every second man displayed the Napoleonic emblem. His eyes went back to meet an intent look from Henriette. She said:
“You do not wear that flower, Monsieur!”
He returned her look with the answer:
“My military oath was of allegiance to a King. And though the King be discrowned and the Republic claims my services, I know nothing of an Empire—at least, not yet.”
The irony stung. She bit her scarlet lip, and said, with a bright glance that triumphed and challenged:
“Unless the winds and tides have conspired against us, the Emperor will be in Paris to-night.”
“Indeed!” The reports bandied, the bets made at the Club, came back upon Dunoisse’s memory. He said:
“Then Prince Louis-Napoleon has determined to risk the step?”
She answered with energy: