The rose of old St. Louis

"The uncertain glory of an April day."

We met at reveille the next morning at nine--the great Christmas feast when kinsfolk all gather at the house of the head of the family and make merry together. Then I saw for what all the mighty preparations of the day before were intended. The roasted fowl and venison pasty, smoking hot, were flanked by tarts and cakes and jellies and cordials beyond my power to inventory, for I had ever less of a talent for the description of such things than for making away with them.

It was a goodly feast, and we lingered at table for over an hour, mingling with our enjoyment of Madame Saugrain's good things such pleasant converse as Frenchmen excel in. Dr. Saugrain himself had always something wise and witty to say, and being a man of deep learning and much science, was often, also, most instructive. An hour, therefore, passed quickly enough, and I was glad to see that mademoiselle was looking more as she had looked before the picnic on Chouteau's Pond than I had seen her since my return. But I had chance for little more than the good wishes of the day with her, for the company was large and my seat, as usual, was near Madame Saugrain, at the other end of the table from hers. My thoughts had dwelt much upon her when I lay on my bed the night before, a long hour ere sleep visited my eyelids. I had lived over the events of the evening, and of the weeks that I had known her, and she had seemed to me not one, but many maidens. Haughty, meek, scornful, merry, mocking, serious, sad, sweet--in how many moods had I not seen her, and in each in turn she had seemed to me the sweetest. I always forgot, when I was with her, that she was a great lady in France and destined soon to return to her home land and her rightful position. I never could think of her as anything but Dr. Saugrain's ward: wilful, sweet, and capricious, the belle of St. Louis, the toast of the young men and the idol of the young maidens. That as a rule she had treated me with scorn or indifference did not in the least detract from her charms for me, but the unwonted sweetness of the night before had quite gone to my head, and I was henceforth her willing slave.

From the breakfast-table we separated; the captain and Dr. Saugrain going to the doctor's laboratory, where he was making some wonderful experiments with phosphorus, by which one might at any moment obtain a light, without the aid of tinder, by means of little sticks of wood dipped in the phosphorus! 'Tis not to be wondered at that many people think Dr. Saugrain a dealer in black arts when he can accomplish such supernatural results by the aid of science!

As for me, I had an engagement with Josef Papin and Gabriel Cerre and some other young men to go duck-shooting on the Maramec, a good day's tramp, and we did not expect to be back until nearly time for Madame Chouteau's dance. I think the matrons and the maidens expected to spend the day in going to church and in making visits, which seemed to me a dull way to spend Christmas, but no doubt they liked it.

It was a grand day for shooting, the air so clear and dry, just frosty enough to send the blood leaping through our bodies; and we came home with a great string of prairie-chicken and duck and partridge--enough to supply the village for a week. We were a little later than we had intended in getting home, and tired enough to go right to bed, but I, for one, would not have missed this my first opportunity to appear in grand costume du bal, to say nothing of the joys of the dance.

There was a hot supper waiting for me, which rested me wonderfully; and then, with Yorke's help, I had a quick bath and was into my ball dress in a shorter time than I had dared to hope. Yorke had laid out my dress for me and looked to the lace ruffles and lacers, so that I had only to jump into it and let him tie me up, and I was ready.

I was glad that I had such a becoming costume with me, for, without being unduly vain, I knew that the rich plum-colored coat and breeches and the lilac satin waistcoat with fine lace frills and a touch of gold here and there were a good offset to my yellow hair and rosy cheeks, which, much as I despised them at times, I was yet at other times well satisfied to endure. I liked, too, the looks of my leg in a fine white silk stocking and low pumps with shoe- and knee-buckles of brilliants, and was not above being proud of a well-turned calf and ankle.

Madame and mademoiselle had gone on ahead in a charrette, as better suited to their costumes du bal than horseback-riding, and Dr. Saugrain and Captain Clarke had ridden by their side, leaving me to finish dressing and hurry after them as soon as I could.

A mad haste seized me before I reached Madame Chouteau's lest the first dance should be over and I lose my promised honor. I reflected, too, that mademoiselle would think me always tardy in keeping my engagements with her, and the thought lent spurs to my movements. I entered the great ball-room in breathless haste. The walnut was waxed to the last perfection of slipperiness, and not taking heed to my steps, my feet slipped up. But I caught myself from falling, though not without as many gyrations of long arms and long legs as a Dutch windmill might accomplish on a windy day.

My remarkable entry was greeted with a shout of laughter by the young men and maidens, who by this time had come to know me well. I did not mind that, but I looked hastily toward Mademoiselle Pelagie, and there, between the straight black brows, was the ominous little frown I had learned to dread. What availed my beautiful plum-colored velvets and lavender satin, lace, and buckles, if I only succeeded in being an awkward hobbledehoy? I must retrieve myself!

I drew myself up in my grandest manner and walked up to Madame Chouteau, sitting in state in a great arm-chair near the chimney-piece. With my courtliest bow, in my best French, I made my compliments to her as if I had been accustomed to entering rooms in no other fashion. Then I made the circuit of the room, talking for a minute or two to each of my acquaintances, lingering longest by Mademoiselle Chouteau, whose eyes were dancing with mirth, and so round the circle, head thrown back (but being careful of my steps), until I came to mademoiselle. There I stopped, with another low bow. Looking down on her, I was glad to see the frown was no longer there, but a look of something far pleasanter, almost like admiration, had taken its place.

Of course she was surrounded by young men--that did not displease me: I liked to see her admired. She was wearing the same gown she had worn at Mr. Gratiot's the first time I saw her, and I said to myself: "I know not what her rank in France may be,--comtesse, marquise, or duchesse,--but I know she looks every inch la reine." I think my pride in her lent stateliness to my steps as I led her out in the dance. I know that for her sake I wished to look as much le roi as it was in me to look.

But there was no chance during the minuet for mademoiselle's promised confidence, and as the evening went on I began to think there would be none at all. There had been the old folks' minuet, when Dr. Saugrain led out Madame Chouteau on the floor, and his plump little calves, silk-robed, had twinkled beside her stately steps in wondrous fashion. And then had come supper,--a bounteous feast of delicate cakes and sweetmeats and rich salads and cold fowl, with gooseberry wine and a sweet punch brewed from New Orleans ratafia,--and I feared that would put an end to the festivities, and still there had been no chance.

But 'tis a wonderful thing on what a small matter great matters will sometimes turn! Though there may be those who would think it no great matter that I should find myself riding home in the moonlight with mademoiselle on a pillion behind me, and Fatima going at so slow a pace as put her in a constant fret of wonder as to what could be the reason that her master kept her down so, and mademoiselle telling me her story in a low tone (for being so near my ear she did not have to raise her voice), and sometimes trembling so much that the little arm which was pretending to circle my great waist to hold on by (but which only reached by uttermost stretch a quarter-way around) would almost lose its grip.

It seemed a great matter to me, and it happened in this wise: I had barely spoken to mademoiselle since our dance, when just as I was getting a glass of gooseberry wine and a croquecignolle for Mademoiselle Chouteau (she said she had no stomach for salads and meats at a dance) mademoiselle came up to me, inquiring most anxiously had I seen her capote. 'Twas of heavy silk, and lined with the skins of beavers, and would have been very costly in Philadelphia, and handsome enough for our greatest dames. I had not seen it, but offered to go at once in search of it as soon as I had carried the wine and croquecignolle to Mademoiselle Chouteau.

We hunted together in all the most impossible places, and mademoiselle growing every moment more anxious, because she was keeping madame and Dr. Saugrain waiting. They were tired and longing to get home, and I said, half in jest:

"Had I a pillion, Mademoiselle, we would tell madame not to wait, and when we had found your capote I could bring you home with me on Fatima."