The communication between the father and daughter was always carried on upon this basis; and scoffers wickedly asserted that M.de Puymandour had modelled it upon a book of etiquette, for the guidance of her household, written by a venerable arch-duchess.
Shortly after the man had departed on his errand, a little tap came to the door.
"Come in," exclaimed M.de Puymandour.
And Mademoiselle Marie ran in and gave her father a kiss upon each cheek.

He frowned slightly, and extricated himself from her embrace.
"I thought it better to come to you, my dear father," said she, "than to give you the trouble of coming all the way to me." "You always forget that there are certain forms and ceremonies necessary for a young lady of your position." Marie gave a little gentle smile, for she was no stranger to her father's absurd whims; but she never thwarted them, for she was very fond of him.

She was a very charming young lady, and in the description that the Duke had given of her to his son, he had not flattered her at all.

Though she differed greatly in appearance from Mademoiselle de Laurebourg, Marie's beauty was perfect in a style of its own.

She was tall and well proportioned, and had all that easy grace of movement, characteristic of women of Southern parentage.