she was not the
least beautiful object in those stately rooms. She had married into a
race of nobles who (themselves famed for personal beauty) had been
scrupulous in the choice of lovely wives. The late Viscount (for
Madame was a widow) had been one of the handsomest of the gay
courtiers of his day; and Madame had not been unworthy of him. Even
now, though the roses on her cheeks were more entirely artificial than
they had been in the days of her youth, she was like some exquisite
piece of porcelain. Standing by the embroidery frame was Madame's only
child, a boy who, in spite of his youth, was already Monsieur the
Viscount. He also was beautiful. His exquisitely-cut mouth had a curl
which was the inheritance of scornful generations, but which was
redeemed by his soft violet eyes and by an under-lying expression of
natural amiability. His hair was cut square across the forehead, and
fell in natural curls behind. His childish figure had already been
trained in the fencing school, and had gathered dignity from
perpetually treading upon shallow steps and in lofty rooms. From the
rosettes on his little shoes to his _chapeau a plumes_, he also was
like some porcelain figure. Surely, such beings could not exist except
in such a chateau as this, where the very air (unlike that breathed by
common mortals) had in the ante-rooms a faint aristocratic odour, and
was for yards round Madame the Viscountess dimly suggestive of
frangipani!

Monsieur the Viscount did not stay long by the embroidery frame; he
was entertaining to-day a party of children from the estate, and had
come for the key of an old cabinet of which he wished to display the
treasures. When tired of this, they went out on to the terrace, and
one of the children who had not been there before exclaimed at the
beauty of the view.

"It is true," said the little Viscount, carelessly, "and all, as far
as you can see, is the estate."

"I will throw a stone to the end of your property, Monsieur," said one
of the boys, laughing; and he picked one off the walk, and stepping
back, flung it with all his little strength. The stone fell before it
had passed the fountains, and the failure was received with shouts of
laughter.

"Let us see who can beat that," they cried; and there was a general
search for pebbles, which were flung at random among the flower beds.

"One may easily throw such as those," said the Viscount, who was
poking under the wall of the first terrace; "but