was before her one of the latest representatives from Belgravia, not she!
But when I took an honest look at her face, I understood. I'm glad that
I had my hat in my hand, polite as any Frenchman on the threshold of a
blanchisserie: for I learned very soon that the Woman had been in
Belgravia too, and knew far more than I did about what was what. When
she did rise to array the supper table, it struck me that if Josephine
Beauharnais had been like her, she might have kept her hold on Napoleon,
and saved his fortunes; made Europe France; and France the world. I could
not understand it. Jimmy Haldane had said to me when I was asking for
Malbrouck's place on the compass,--'Don't put on any side with them, my
Greg, or you'll take a day off for penitence.' They were both tall and
good to look at, even if he was a bit rugged, with neck all wire and
muscle, and had big knuckles. But she had hands like those in a picture
of Velasquez, with a warm whiteness and educated--that's it, educated
hands.

"She wasn't young, but she seemed so. Her eyes looked up and out at you
earnestly, yet not inquisitively, and more occupied with something in her
mind, than with what was before her. In short, she was a lady; not one
by virtue of a visit to the gods that rule o'er Buckingham Palace, but by
the claims of good breeding and long descent. She puzzled me, eluded me
--she reminded me of someone; but who? Someone I liked, because I felt a
thrill of admiration whenever I looked at her--but it was no use, I
couldn't remember. I soon found myself talking to her according to St.
James--the palace, you know--and at once I entered a bet with my beloved
aunt, the dowager--who never refuses to take my offer, though she seldom
wins, and she's ten thousand miles away, and has to take my word for it--
that I should find out the history of this Man and Woman before another
Christmas morning, which wasn't more than two months off. You know
whether or not I won it, my son."