Her eyes were deeper than the depth Of waters still at even:
She had three lilies in her hand,
And the stars in her hair were seven.
—Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
"No, no, my cabbage, I do not find that plain gown becoming, of a verity thou must remember that thou art an English Countess and must henceforth adorn thy person with proper grandeur."
 
And worthy Mme. Legros, whilst vainly trying to express disapproval, gazed with obvious admiration at the dainty apparition before her.
 
"Let be, Maman, let be!" interposed Papa Legros soothingly, "the chit is well enough as she is. When she is over there in England, she may well look grand and stately; for the present she is still a tailor's daughter and I'll challenge the world to produce a daintier bale of goods. Par ma foi! were I not thy father, my pigeon, I were tempted to envy that profligate young scoundrel, thy noble lord and husband. 'Tis a mightily succulent morsel he will bite into the nonce."
 
Rose Marie striving to hide the confusion, which her kind father's broad allusion caused in her sensitive young heart, buried her face in the bouquet of snowdrops which she held in her hand.
 
No wonder that her adoring parents were proud of her.[144] She looked a picture on this cold winter's morning, standing there in her little room beneath the eaves, clad in pure white like the snow which lay thick on the narrow window sill and along the streets of Paris.
 
She had fashioned her gown herself, of white grogram with a beautiful openwork lace pinner and delicate kerchief demurely folded across her young bosom. Her fair hair was dressed in small curls all over her small head, her neck was bare, as were her arms and hands, and in colour as delicate as the snowdrops which she carried.
 
The spring was still in its infancy and snowdrops were very scarce; worthy M. Legros had paid a vast sum of money in order that Rose Marie should carry a bouquet when first she met her lord.
 
All white she looked—almost like a little snow image, only that her cheeks glowed with the excitement in her blood, and her bosom rose and fell with unwonted rapidity beneath the filmy folds of her muslin kerchief.
 
My lord of Stowmaries had arrived in Paris the evening before, and had sent one of his serving-men round to say that he would come and pay his respects before midday.
 
Oh! there seemed no laggardness about him now. The influence of Monseigneur the Archbishop and no doubt his own better nature had prevailed at last, and since a fortnight ago when his letter arrived announcing his coming, he seemed to have lost no time in useless preparations.
 
Now he was here in Paris and Rose Marie had put on her pretty gown in order to receive him. She did so mightily desire to please him, for she on her side was quite ready to give him that respectful love which husbands demand of their wives. Mme. Legros had fussed round the child all the morning, and though she grumbled at the simplicity[145] of the gown, she could not help but admire the exquisite picture of innocent girlhood which her daughter presented with such charming unconsciousness.
 
Rose Marie had been singularly silent all the while that she dressed. She was very anxious to be beautiful, and thought that this could not be accomplished without much care and trouble. This she bestowed ungrudgingly on every curl as she twisted and pinned it up, on every fold of her kerchief, on the tying of her shoe.
 
She had taken over two hours in completing her toilet, selecting with scrupulous care each article of dainty underlinen, which her own fingers had embroidered months ago, in anticipation of this great day: the white stockings, the silken garters, the beribboned shift and petticoat.
 
When she was ready, she called to maman to come and inspect, and oh! to criticise if there were any fault to find, which maman of a surety would detect. Mme. Legros determined not to let affection blind her, had turned the snow-white apparition round and round, seeking for defects, where none existed, readjusting a curl here, a ribbon there, and finally calling to good M. Legros to come and give his verdict on the picture.
 
But good M. Legros was far too adoring to do aught but admire. So now Rose Marie, if not quite free from doubt, was at any rate satisfied that everything which could be done to render her be............