ified. The principal characteristic of his great, square-hewn head
was the thick, luxuriant black hair which framed his face, and gave him
a strikingly close resemblance to General Kleber; and the likeness still
held good in the vigorous forehead, in the outlines of his face, the
quiet fearlessness of his eyes, and a kind of fiery vehemence expressed
by strongly marked features. He was short, deep-chested, and muscular
as a lion. There was something of the despot about him, and an
indescribable suggestion of the security of strength in his gait,
bearing, and slightest movements. He seemed to know that his will was
irresistible, perhaps because he wished for nothing unjust. And yet,
like all really strong men, he was mild of speech, simple in his
manners, and kindly natured; although it seemed as if, in the stress of
a great crisis, all these finer qualities must disappear, and the man
would show himself implacable, unshaken in his resolve, terrific in
action. There was a certain drawing in of the inner line of the lips
which, to a close observer, indicated an ironical bent.

The Duchesse de Langeais, realising that a fleeting glory was to be
won by such a conquest, made up her mind to gain a lover in Armand de
Montriveau during the brief interval before the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse
brought him to be introduced. She would prefer him above the others; she
would attach him to herself, display all her powers of coquetry for him.
It was a fancy, such a merest Duchess's whim as furnished a Lope or a
Calderon with the plot of the _Dog in the Manger_. She would not suffer
another woman to engross him; but she had not the remotest intention of
being his.

Nature had given the Duchess every qualification for the part of
coquette, and education had perfected her. Women envied her, and men
fell in love with her, not without reason. Nothing that can inspire
love, justify it, and give it lasting empire was wanting in her. Her
style of beauty, her manner, her voice, her bearing, all combined to
give her that instinctive coquetry which seems to be the consciousness
of power. Her shape was graceful; perhaps there was a trace of
self-consciousness in her changes of movement, the one affectation that
could be laid to her charge; but everything about her was a part of her
personality, from her least little gesture to the peculiar turn of her
phrases, the demure glance of her eyes. Her great lady's grace, her
most striking characteristic,