"Never fear, Paoli," he said. "Mlle. Balthy's 'startling' side will amuse me immensely: you need not be a greater royalist than the King!"
So I went in search of the delightful creature:
"My dear Balthy," I said, "come with me and be presented to the King."
"To George?" she replied, winking her eye.
I shuddered with dismay!
"To His Majesty the King of the Hellenes, yes."
"Come on!"
But lo and behold, in the King's presence, Balthy—O, wonder of wonders!—lost all her self-assurance. I expected to see her tap the King on the shoulder; instead, she made him an elaborate curtsey. In reply to the compliments which he paid her she was content modestly to lower her eyes: she even went so far as to blush! We might have been at court.
And, when the King, not knowing what to think, and feeling perhaps a trifle disappointed, confessed his surprise at her shyness:
"What can you expect?" she declared. "If even you were merely a president of the republic, it wouldn't put me out; but a king—that makes me feel uncomfortable! And, besides, no king can care for thin women; and I should look like a sardine, even if you put me next to Sarah Bernhardt!"