But the arrival of the Archduchess Elizabeth spared the Ambassadress from what might too easily have become an “incident.”
In the beautiful chandeliered apartments several young couples were pirouetting to the inevitable waltz from the Blue Banana, but most of the guests seemed to prefer exploring the conservatories and Winter Garden, or elbowing their way into a little room where a new portrait of Princess Elsie had been discreetly placed....
“One feels, of course, there was a sitting—; but still, it isn’t like her!” those that had seen her said.
“The artist has attributed to her at least the pale spent eyes of her father!” the Duchess of Cavaljos remarked to her niece, who was standing quite silent against a rose-red curtain.
Mademoiselle de Nazianzi made no reply. Attaching not the faintest importance to the rumours afloat, still, she could not but feel, at times, a little heartshaken....
The duchess plied her fan.
“She will become florid in time like her mother!” she cheerfully predicted turning away just as the Archduchess approached herself to inspect the painting.
Swathed in furs, on account of a troublesome cough contracted paddling, she seemed nevertheless in charming spirits.
“Have you been to my new Pipi?” she asked.
“Not yet——”