ll I not be among friends, the truest and noblest
that any country or any individual can boast? Your looks bespeak your
answer! Friends, I ask you to drink to Monsieur le Marquis de Lafayette
and to Messieurs de Beaufort and d'Azay!"

Amid the enthusiastic applause which followed, Lafayette was seen to
rise and lift his hand for silence.

"Since the first day we set foot upon this great country," he said, "we
have received naught but kindness, aid, honors. How shall we thank you
for that in a few words? We cannot, but we can make you a promise for
our King, our country, and ourselves. 'Tis this. Mr. Jefferson shall
find a welcome and a home in France such as we have found here, an
admiration, a respect, a love such as we cannot command. And should Mr.
Calvert come also, he shall be as a brother to us! I drink to our happy
reunion in France!"

"So you will come to France, too, Ned," cried d'Azay to Calvert. "I
shall claim you as my guest and take you down to our chateau of
Azay-le-Roi and show you to my sister Adrienne as a great American
savage!"

"You will be blessed if she looks at you out of mere curiosity if for
naught else," murmured Beaufort at Calvert's ear, "for she is the
prettiest little nun in all France. Show Calvert thy locket, Henri."

Somewhat reluctantly d'Azay pulled forth a small ivory miniature in a
gold case, and holding it well within the hollow of his hand, so that
others might not see, he laid it before Calvert.

"Is she not a beauty?" demanded Beaufort, eagerly. "More beautiful, I
think, than the lovely Miss Shippen of Philadelphia, or Miss Bingham, or
any of your famous beauties, Calvert."

It was indeed a beautiful face that Calvert gazed upon, a slender, oval
face with violet eyes, shadowed by long, thick lashes; a straight nose
with slightly distended nostrils, which, with the curling lips, gave a
look of haughtiness to the countenance in spite of its youthfulness. A
cloud of dusky hair framed the face, which, altogether, was still
extremely immature and (as Calvert thought) capable of developing into
noble loveliness or hardening into unpleasing though striking beauty.

Beaufort still hung over Calvert's shoulder. "She is 'The Lass with the
Delicate Air' whom you but just now sang of, Calvert," he said, laughing
softly. "I wonder who will ever be lucky enough to find a way to win
this maid!"

As Calvert stood gazing in silent admiration at the miniature and but
half-listening to B