Madame de Chastellux,
the Duchesse d'Orleans's lady-in-waiting, whom Calvert had once met in
America, was also making a tour of the salon, accompanied by that
charming hedonist, Monsieur le Vicomte de Segur, than whom there was no
wilder, lighter-headed youth in Paris, unless it was his bosom friend,
Beaufort, who, catching sight of Calvert standing beside Madame Necker,
straightway went over to him.
"As ever, the Squire of Elderly Dames," he whispered to Calvert, smiling
mockingly. "Are you looking for d'Azay? Well, he has not arrived, nor
Madame la Marquise, nor Madame la Duchesse. Trust me for seeing them as
soon as they come! In the meantime, my dear Calvert, there are some
beauties here whom you must meet. Madame de Flahaut, for example. I
shall ask Madame Necker's permission to take you to her. But wait," he
said, with a little laugh, and, laying a hand on Calvert's arm, "we are
forestalled! See, Mr. Morris is just being presented," and he motioned
to where a beautiful young woman sat, before whom Mr. Morris was making
a most profound bow. Calvert thought he had rarely seen a more lovely
face, though there was a touch of artificiality about it, young as it
was, which he did not admire.
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