Both were considered by their young co-equals models in dress, but in
Raoul there was no sign that care or thought upon dress had been
bestowed; the simplicity of his costume was absolute and severe. On his
plain shirt-front there gleamed not a stud, on his fingers there sparkled
not a ring. Enguerrand, on the contrary, was not without pretension in
his attire; the broderie in his shirt-front seemed woven by the Queen of
the Fairies. His rings of turquoise and opal, his studs and wrist-
buttons of pearl and brilliants, must have cost double the rental of
Rochebriant, but probably they cost him nothing. He was one of those
happy Lotharios to whom Calistas make constant presents. All about him
was so bright that the atmosphere around seemed gayer for his presence.

In one respect at least the brothers closely resembled each other,--in
that exquisite graciousness of manner for which the genuine French noble
is traditionally renowned; a graciousness that did not desert them even
when they came reluctantly into contact with _roturiers_ or republicans;
but the graciousness became _egalite, fraternite_, towards one of their
caste and kindred.

"We must do our best to make Paris pleasant to you," said Raoul, still
retaining in his grasp the hand he had taken.

"_Vilain cousin_," said the livelier Enguerrand, "to have been in Paris
twenty-four hours, and without letting us know."

"Has not your father told you that I called upon him?"

"Our father," answered Raoul, "was not so savage as to conceal that fact;
but he said you were only here on business for a day or two, had declined