"Mr. Calvert," she said, "I hope my brother has had a chance to talk
with you. He is most anxious to see you." As she spoke, Calvert thought
he had never heard anything so beautiful as the sound of those clear,
French words, each one as sweet and distinct as the carillon of a silver
bell.
"Alas, no, Madame! We have exchanged but a dozen words. 'Tis almost
five years since we last talked together. That was at Monticello, where,
indeed, I had the pleasure of making your acquaintance--in miniature!"
He bowed and smiled as he noted her look of surprise. "And where---"
"And where," interrupted Beaufort, who at that instant joined them and
who had overheard Calvert's last words, "d'Azay promised to introduce
Mr. Calvert to you as an American savage!"
"Indeed, my brother spoke to me on the subject," returned Madame de St.
Andre, laughing outright at the recollection (and if each word she spoke
was like the sound of a silver bell, her laugh was like a whole chime of
them). "I had looked for something quite different," she went on, in a
mock-disappointed tone, and with an amused glance at Beaufort.
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