’Monsieur Du Lac!

’Grey Dawn.  ’You are greeted.  This, if you have been tardy on the journey home, will follow close on the heels of the prowest, I believe truest, of knights, and bear perhaps to his quick mind some help to the solution he dropped a hint of seeking.

’The Ball in every way a success.  Grand Duke and Duchess perfect in courtesy, not a sign of the German morgue.  Livia splendid.  Compared to Day and Night.  But the Night eclipses the Day.  A summer sea of dancing.  Who, think you, eclipsed those two?

’I tell you the very truth when I say your Carinthia did.  If you had seen her,—­the “poor dear girl” you sigh to speak of,—­with the doleful outlook on her fortunes:  “portionless, unattractive!” Chillon, she was magical!

You cannot ever have seen her irradiated with happiness.  Her pleasure in the happiness of all around her was part of the charm.  One should be a poet to describe her.  It would task an artist to paint the rose-crystal she became when threading her way through the groups to be presented.  This is not meant to say that she looked beautiful.  It was the something above beauty—­more unique and impressive—­like the Alpine snow-cloak towering up from the flowery slopes you know so well and I a little.

’You choose to think, is it Riette who noticed my simple sister so closely before . . . ? for I suppose you to be reading this letter a second time and reflecting as you read.  In the first place, acquaintance with her has revealed that she is not the simple person—­only in her manner.  Under the beams of subsequent events, it is true I see her more picturesquely.  But I noticed also just a suspicion of the “grenadier” stride when she was on the march to make her curtsey.  But Livia had no cause for chills and quivers.  She was not the very strange bird requiring explanatory excuses; she dances excellently, and after the first dance, I noticed she minced her steps in the walk with her partner.  She catches the tone readily.  If not the image of her mother, she has inherited her mother’s bent for the graces; she needs but a small amount of practice.

’Take my assurance of that; and you know who has critical eyes.  Your anxiety may rest; she is equal to any station.

’As expected by me, my Lord Tyrant appeared, though late, near midnight.  I saw him bowing to the Ducal party.  Papa had led your “simple sister” there.  Next I saw the Tyrant and Carinthia conversing.  Soon they were dancing together, talking interestedly, like cheerful comrades.  Whatever his faults, he has the merit of being a man of his word.  He said he would come, he did not wish to come, and he came.

’His word binds him—­I hope not fatally; irrevocably, it certainly does.  There is charm of character in that.  His autocrat airs can be forgiven to a man who so profoundly respects his word.

’It occurred during their third dance.  Your Riette was not in the quadrille.  O but she was a snubbed young woman last night!  I refrain—­the examples are too minute for quotation.