bon point; with dark hair and eyes, but fair complexion,
injured in effect rather than improved by pearl-powder, and that
atrocious barbarism of a dark stain on the eyelids which has of late
years been a baneful fashion; dressed,--I am a man, and cannot describe
her dress; all I know is that she had the acknowledged fame of the
best-dressed subject of France. As she rose from her seat there was in
her look and air the unmistakable evidence of grande dame,--a family
likeness in feature to Alain himself, a stronger likeness to the picture
of her first cousin (his mother) which was preserved at Rochebriant. Her
descent was indeed from ancient and noble houses. But to the distinction
of race she added that of fashion, crowning both with a tranquil
consciousness of lofty position and unblemished reputation.

"Unnatural cousin!" she said to Alain, offering her hand to him, with
a gracious smile,--"all this age in Paris, and I see you for the first
time. But there is joy on earth as in heaven over sinners who truly
repent. You repent truly--n'est ce pas?"

It is impossible to describe the caressing charm which the Duchesse
threw into her words, voice, and look. Alain was fascinated and subdued.

"Ah, Madame la Duchesse," said he, bowing over the fait hand he lightly
held, "it was not sin, unless modesty be a sin, which made a rustic
hesitate long before he dared to offer his homage to the queen of the
graces."

"Not badly said for a rustic," cried Enguerrand; "eh, Madame?"

"My cousin, you are pardoned," said the Duchesse. "Compliment is the
perfume of gentilhommerie; and if you brought enough of that perfume
from the flowers of Rochebriant to distribute among the ladies at
court, you will be terribly the mode there. Seducer!"--here she gave
the Marquis a playful tap on the cheek, not in a coquettish but in a
mother-like familiarity, and looking at him attentively, said: "Why,
you are even handsomer than your father. I shall be proud to present to
their Imperial Majesties so becoming a cousin. But seat yourselves here,
Messieurs, close to my arm-chair, caussons."

The Duchesse then took up the ball of the conversation. She talked
without any apparent artifice, but with admirable tact; put just the
questions about Rochebriant most calculated to please Alain, shunning
all that might have pained him; asking him for descriptions of the
surrounding scenery, the Breton legends; hoping that the old castle
would never be spoiled