onorable and essayed her coquetries on the younger man, much to his
embarrassment. With a slight gesture of command she pointed Mr. Morris
to a seat beside her on the divan upon which she had sunk.

"Ah! Monsieur," she said to him, with a languishing glance out of her
brilliant eyes and a smile that displayed a row of wonderfully white
teeth, "Monsieur de Lafayette tells me that you are un homme d'esprit."

"Madame," returned Mr. Morris, bowing low--perhaps to conceal the
ironical smile playing about his lips--"I do not feel myself worthy of
such a compliment."

"Mais, si!" insisted Madame de Stael, with another glance, which did not
and was not meant to conceal her newly awakened interest in the
distinguished-looking American. "We hear that Monsieur has even written
a book on the American Constitution."

"Alas, no, Madame! 'Tis a libel, I assure you," returned Mr. Morris,
this time laughing outright with the amusement he could no longer
conceal. "I have but done my duty in helping to form the Constitution."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Madame de Stael, and then lowering her voice
slightly and dropping her coquettish manner for a serious air, "perhaps
we shall have occasion to beg of Monsieur Morris some ideas la dessus.
There is nothing this poor, distracted France stands so much in need of
as a constitution. My father is a great man, on whom the King and
country depend for everything" ("In my life I never saw such exuberant
vanity," thought Mr. Morris to himself), "but even he must fail at times
if not supported by a reasonable constitution. You must come to see me,
Monsieur, when we can be alone and discuss this. One who has helped to
form his country's laws and has been wounded in her services," and she
pointed with an eloquent, somewhat theatrical gesture to Mr. Morris's
wooden stump, "cannot fail to be a good adviser."

"Oh, Madame, I must indeed cripple myself in your esteem now," says Mr.
Morris, laughing again heartily. "'Twas not in my country's service that
I lost my leg--'twas but a runaway accident with two fiery little ponies
in Philadelphia! But, indeed," he goes on, still laughing, "I do not
miss it greatly, and can get around as easily as though I were a
centipede and had a hundred good legs at my disposal!"

As for Calvert, he had been only too glad to make his escape on Madame
de Stael's cool dismissal, and had retreated to the side of Madame
Necker, who was kindness itself to the young man, pointing ou