Peter Lely, so finely
were they cut. One had a form a bit fuller and stronger than the
other's, but they were both as tall and trim as a young beech, with
lips cherry-red and cheeks where one could see faintly the glow of
their young blood. Their gowns were cut low, showing the graceful
lines of neck and shoulder and full bosom. I had seen pretty
girls, many of them, but few high-bred, beautiful young women.
The moment I saw these two some new and mighty force came into me.
There were wine and wit a-plenty at the count's table, and other
things that were also new to me, and for which I retained perhaps
too great a fondness.
The count asked me to tell of our journey, and I told the story
with all the spirit I could put into my words. I am happy to say
it did seem to hit the mark, for I was no sooner done with our
adventure than the ladies began to clap their hands, and the Misses
de Lambert had much delight in their faces when the baroness retold
my story in French.
Dinner over, the count invited me to the smoking-room, where, in a
corner by ourselves, I had some talk with him. He told me of his
father--that he had been a friend of Franklin, that he had given a
ship and a cargo of gunpowder to our navy in '76. Like others I
had met under his roof, the count had seen the coming of the Reign
of Terror in France, and had fled with his great fortune. He had
invested much of it there in the wild country. He loved America,
and had given freely to equip the army for war. He was, therefore,
a man of much influence in the campaign of the North, and no doubt
those in authority there were instructed, while the war was on, to
take special care of his property.
"And will you please tell me," I said at length, "who are the
Misses de Lambert?"
"Daughters of a friend in Paris," said the count. "He is a great
physician. He wishes not for them to marry until they are
twenty-one. Mon Dieu! it was a matter of some difficulty. They
were beautiful."
"Very beautiful!" I echoed.
"They were admired," he went on. "The young men they began to make
trouble. My friend he send them here, with the baroness, to
study--to finish their education. It is healthy, it is quiet,
and--well, there are no young gentlemen. They go to bed early;
they are up at daylight; they have the horse; they have boats; they
amuse themselves ver' much. But they are impatient; they long for
Paris--the salon, the theatre, the opera. They are l
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