“I am the Duchess de Lucenay, sir!”
The lady then assumed the lofty look of her station; and her appearance was so imposing that the notary, controlled, fascinated, receded a pace, quite overcome, took off mechanically the black silk cap that covered his cranium, and made a low bow.
In truth, nothing could be more charming and aristocratic than the face and figure of Madame de Lucenay, although she was turned thirty, and her features were pale and somewhat agitated. But then she had full, brown eyes, sparkling and bold; splendid black hair; anose thin and arched; a lip red and disdainful; a dazzling complexion; teeth of ivory; and a form tall and slender, graceful, and full of distinction,—the carriage of a goddess in the clouds, as the immortal Saint-Simon says. With her hair powdered,
