The religious service over, the guests strolled through the camp, enjoying the sweet summer weather, and the curious and interesting sights that met their view on every side. Amongst the crowd of visitors there was no happier party than that of Madame de Talmont. Joy had ripened the quiet grace of Clémence into a sweet and rare loveliness; there was a soft and steady light in her dark eyes, and the glow of perfect health upon her cheek. She was dressed that day with unusual care; Ivan himself had superintended her toilet for the expedition, and had chosen the simple exquisitely-fitting robe of silver gray silk which she wore. And that morning, before the service, he brought her the loveliest of roses, crimson and cream colour, and fastened them in her belt, “for the Emperor’s fête,” he said. In the course of the afternoon his friends met him; he was walking with a group of officers of distinguished appearance. Coming to the side of Clémence, he took her hand and led her gently forward. “His Imperial Majesty wishes to be presented to you,” he said quietly. If Clémence felt a momentary embarrassment, it was quickly dispelled; for a very courteous gentleman was bowing over her hand, and a kind voice was saying pleasant things of “my friend Prince Pojarsky,” and of the welcome which awaited Madame la Princesse for his sake in St. Petersburg. What she answered, or what other introductions followed she scarcely knew, for all that passed seemed like a dream, only far more easy and natural. “_That_ the Emperor!” said Stéphanie afterwards. “I should not have been at all afraid to talk to him myself. He was only a gentleman.”[67] “_Only_ a gentleman?” Madame de Talmont repeated. “Such gentlemen are not so plentiful, my little Stéphanie.” “But that Prince Ivan is doubtless well acquainted with the etiquette of his own court, I should say he made a blunder,” observed Madame de Salgues. “A lady, were she the highest of the land, would be presented to the King of France, not the King to the lady.” “Yes; and the King would go in to dinner before his guest, were that guest an Emperor,” said Emile. “Certainly no one can call Louis Dix-huit ‘only a gentleman.’” “Prince Ivan may be trusted in matters of etiquette,” said Henri. He added apart to Clémence, “Do you remember, sister mine, the good things we two agreed to ask for the man who saved my life?” “Love, joy, peace, God’s best gifts. And there is that in his face to-day, Henri, which makes me think God has heard and answered our prayer.”