ng lady was running forward to throw her arms
round Yvon's neck.

He embraced her tenderly, kissing her on both cheeks in the French
manner; then, still holding her hand, he turned to me, and presented me
to his sister. "This is my friend," he said, "of whom I wrote you,
Valerie; M. D'Arthenay, of La Tour D'Arthenay, Mademoiselle de Ste.
Valerie!"

The young lady curtseyed low, and then, with a look at Yvon, gave me her
hand in a way that made me feel I was welcome. A proper manner of
shaking hands, my dear child, is a thing I have always impressed upon my
pupils. There is nothing that so helps or hinders the first impression,
which is often the last impression. When a person flaps a limp hand at
me, I have no desire for it, if it were the finest hand in the world;
nor do I allow any tricks of fashion in this matter, as sometimes seen,
with waggling this way or that; it is a very offensive thing. Neither
must one pinch with the finger-tips, nor grind the bones of one's
friend, as a strong man will be apt to do, mistaking violence for
warmth; but give a firm, strong, steady pressure with the hand itself,
that carries straight from the heart the message, "I am glad to see
you!"

This is a speech I have made many times; I have kept the young lady
waiting in the hall while I made it to you, thereby failing in good
manners.

At the first glance, Valerie de Ste. Valerie seemed hardly more than a
child, for she was slight and small; my first thought was, how like she
was to her brother, with the same fair hair and dark, bright blue eyes.
She was dressed in a gown of white dimity, very fine, with ruffles at
the foot of the skirt, and a fichu of the same crossed on her breast. I
must say to you, my dear Melody, that it was from this first sight of
her that I took the habit of observing a woman's dress always. A woman
of any age taking pains to adorn herself, it has always seemed to me
boorish not to take careful note of the particulars of a toilet. Mlle.
de Ste. Valerie wore slippers of blue kid, her feet being remarkably
slender and well-shaped; and a blue ribbon about her hair, in the manner
of a double fillet. After a few gracious words, she went forward into a
room at one side of the hall, we following, and here I was presented to
her aunt, a lady who had lived with the brother and sister since their
parents' death, a few years before this time. Of this lady, who was
never my friend, I will say little. Her first aspect