ublime secret history.

Besides, the Chevalier de Valois redeemed those negroes' heads by so
many other graces that society felt itself sufficiently compensated. He
really took such immense trouble to conceal his age and give pleasure to
his friends. In the first place, we must call attention to the extreme
care he gave to his linen, the only distinction that well-bred men
can nowadays exhibit in their clothes. The linen of the chevalier was
invariably of a fineness and whiteness that were truly aristocratic. As
for his coat, though remarkable for its cleanliness, it was always half
worn-out, but without spots or creases. The preservation of that garment
was something marvellous to those who noticed the chevalier's high-bred
indifference to its shabbiness. He did not go so far as to scrape the
seams with glass,--a refinement invented by the Prince of Wales; but
he did practice the rudiments of English elegance with a personal
satisfaction little understood by the people of Alencon. The world owes
a great deal to persons who take such pains to please it. In this there
is certainly some accomplishment of that most difficult precept of the
Gospel about rendering good for evil. This freshness of ablution and
all the other little cares harmonized charmingly with the blue eyes, the
ivory teeth, and the blond person of the old chevalier.

The only blemish was that this retired Adonis had nothing manly about
him; he seemed to be employing this toilet varnish to hide the ruins
occasioned by the military service of gallantry only. But we must hasten
to add that his voice produced what might be called an antithesis to his
blond delicacy. Unless you adopted the opinion of certain observers of
the human heart, and thought that the chevalier had the voice of
his nose, his organ of speech would have amazed you by its full and
redundant sound. Without possessing the volume of classical bass voices,
the tone of it was pleasing from a slightly muffled quality like that of
an English bugle, which is firm and sweet, strong but velvety.

The chevalier had repudiated the ridiculous costume still preserved by
certain monarchical old men; he had frankly modernized himself. He
was always seen in a maroon-colored coat with gilt buttons, half-tight
breeches of poult-de-soie with gold buckles, a white waistcoat without
embroidery, and a tight cravat showing no shirt-collar,--a last vestige
of the old French costume which he did not renounce, perh