Page:Romance & Reality 3.pdf/311

Rh Edward for a moment leant over the balustrade. At first all was a bright and gay confusion—colours only seemed to strike the eye—gradually the figures stood out distinctly, and Lorraine could distinguish every face except the one which he especially wanted. Yet his eye involuntarily lingered on the scene; for he had caught sight of the Countess, who was standing in the centre of a little group, whose looks told their language was flattery; and she herself wore that bright excited air which the words of the flatterer, even more than those of the lover, can call up in woman's face. Every act a coquetry, every look a captivation, she just realised one of the brilliant beauties of La Fronde, a Duchesse de Longueville, for whose sake Rochefoucauld made love, war, and epigrams, and to whom he addressed his celebrated lines,

She wore a dress of azure blue velvet, with a deep border of gold; her luxuriant hair was put back from her brow in a style which no face but the most perfect could have borne, and was then gathered in a form like that of