"I am no skating-master, Monsieur," returned the young man, quietly, and
with as good grace as he was master of, "but I shall be happy to have a
turn upon the ice with you," and with that he moved off, leaving St.
Aulaire to stay or follow as he chose. He chose to follow and skated
rapidly after Calvert with no very benevolent look on his handsome,
dissipated face. Although he was by far the best skater among the French
gentlemen who thronged the ice, and although it was little short of a
marvel that he should be so active at his age, he was scarcely a match
for the younger man either in lightness or quickness of movement. And
although his splendid dress and jewels so overshadowed Mr. Calvert's
quiet appearance, he was conscious of being excelled before the crowd
of spectators by the agility and sure young strength of the American.
Piqued and disgusted at the thought, the habitual half-mocking
good-humor of his manner gave way to sullen, repressed irritation.
Knowing his world so well, he was sure of the interest and curiosity
Calvert's performance would arouse, and longed to convert his little
triumph into a defeat.
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