“Ah, no! I regret, m’sieur,” he answered. “But a lady who is sitting over in the Salon Diplomatique has just inquired of me whether you are present.”
“A lady? What is her name?”
“I know her by sight, but cannot recall her name,” he responded. “She is a grande dame, however.”
“Young or old?”
“Young. You will find her in the salon talking with Count Tornelli, the Italian Ambassador. You will easily recognise her. She is wearing a costume of black, trimmed with silver. She told me that she desired to speak with you particularly, and that I was to tell you of her presence.”
“But you don’t know her?” I laughed.
“Go and see,” he answered. “You probably know her;” and, smiling, he turned away.
My curiosity being aroused, I struggled through the throng until I reached the spot indicated. Only the diplomatic corps and distinguished guests were allowed there, and the other guests, huddled together before the open door, were pointing out well-known personages.
I looked in, and in a moment saw before me the striking figure in black and silver. No second glance was needed to recognise who she was. For a moment I stood in hesitation; then, with a sudden resolve, entered, and, walking straight up, bowed low before her.