“He must be a nice man, as well as clever,” she said. “Introduce him to me when he has finished his waltz with my sister.”
“Reward me beforehand for that act of generosity by finishing the waltz with me,” said Léon.
And Pearl did, Mr. Kingspring being left alone to meditate on the low ideas of modern Frenchmen and the strange inconsistencies of well-born English maidens.
“Mademoiselle, may I have the honor of presenting to you my friend and brother officer, Captain Darvallon?”
M. Darvallon bowed low, and when he looked up Pearl’s soft brown eyes met his with a glance of interest so full and frank that, if he had been a coxcomb, he might have flattered himself he had slain her on the spot.
Polly was a little tired and said she wanted an ice, so Léon offered her his arm to the buffet, and Pearl followed with her new acquaintance. He was a tall, powerfully-built man, with a Gothic head set on broad shoulders, and long, well-bred hands and feet. Judging from his hands and feet, Captain Darvallon might have had the blood of the Montmorencis in him; not that he needed this cachet of distinction to redeem his appearance otherwise or stamp him outwardly as a gentleman. Pearl, even in the distance, had singled him out as somebody above the common. His head, massive as it was, had nothing coarse about it; his features, without being handsome, were marked by an expression of energy, intelligence, and refinement that impressed you more than mere good looks; and though the prominent characteristic of his whole appearance was power, it was too tempered by gentleness to be alarming or repulsive. An array of stars and crosses on his breast bore witness to his prowess on the field, but his manner had borrowed no tinge of soldierly roughness from the camp; it was, on the contrary, marked by a courtesy towards the fair sex rare enough in these days, when the independence of women who have rights is too often pleaded as an excuse for forgetting that they still have privileges.
“What a crowd there is to-night!” said Pearl.
It was a silly remark, but she wanted to say something that would put her companion at his ease. It was the first time that she had been in the company of a man who had risen from the ranks, and she fancied the experience on his side must be novel enough, too, to be embarrassing.
“Just at this point the crush is rather great; but I don’t think the rooms are more crowded than usual. Is it your first ball, mademoiselle?”
“Oh! no; I came out last season in London. You have never been to England, monsieur?”