emed to attend his every action, this
resolution, which would have been productive of such good results at
first, now seemed but a tardy and inefficient apology for courtly
hauteur.

So fatigued was Madame de Tesse and her guests by the day's
proceedings, that it was late when they set off from the rue Dauphine
for the palace. Mr. Morris had the honor of driving alone with Madame de
Tesse (Lafayette and d'Azay declining to attend this levee, having paid
their respects to the King on Saturday), while Mr. Jefferson, whose
coach had remained at Versailles, begged the pleasure of Madame de St.
Andre's company for himself and Mr. Calvert. She came down the marble
steps in her laces and gaze d'or, her dark hair unpowdered and unadorned
save for a white rose, half-opened, held in the coil by a diamond
buckle, and she looked so lovely and so much the grand princess that Mr.
Jefferson could not forbear complimenting her as he handed her into the
coach. As for Mr. Calvert, he stood by in silence, quite dazzled by her
beauty. She took Mr. Jefferson's compliments and Calvert's silent
admiration complacently and as though they were no more than her just
due, and talked gayly and graciously enough with the minister, though
she had scarce a word for the younger man, whom she treated in a fashion
even more than usually imperious, and to which he submitted with his
unvarying composure and good-nature.

In the Place d'Armes the crush of coaches was so great that the American
Minister's carriage could move but slowly from that point into the Cour
Royale, and 'twas with much difficulty that Mr. Jefferson and Calvert,
finally alighting, forced a passage through the crowd for Madame de St.
Andre. At the foot of the great Escalier des Ambassadeurs they found
Madame de Tesse and Mr. Morris, who had just arrived. Mounting
together, they passed through the state apartments of the King, upon the
ceilings and panellings of which Mr. Calvert noted the ever recurring
sun-disk, emblem of the Roi Soleil whose sun had set so ingloriously
long before; through the Salle de la Guerre, from whose dome that same
Sun-King, vanquished so easily by Death, hurled thunder-bolts of wrath
before which Spain and Holland cowered in fear; until they at length
came into the Galerie des Glaces, where their Majesties were to receive.

Not even the splendor of the Salle des Menus could rival for an instant
the beauty of the vast hall, brilliantly lighted by great golde