When the baroness reached the salon, she looked at her son to
discover, if possible, from the expression of his face the events of
the evening. But he caused her, as usual, an emotion that frequency
never weakened,--an emotion which all loving mothers feel at sight of
a human masterpiece made by them; this sentiment blues their sight and
supersedes all others for the moment.
Except for the black eyes, full of energy and the heat of the sun,
which he derived from his father, Calyste in other respects resembled
his mother; he had her beautiful golden hair, her lovable mouth, the
same curving fingers, the same soft, delicate, and purely white skin.
Though slightly resembling a girl disguised as a man, his physical
strength was Herculean. His muscles had the suppleness and vigor of
steel springs, and the singularity of his black eyes and fair
complexion was by no means without charm. His beard had not yet
sprouted; this delay, it is said, is a promise of longevity. The
chevalier was dressed in a short coat of black velvet like that of his
mother's gown, trimmed with silver buttons, a blue foulard necktie,
trousers of gray jean, and a becoming pair of gaiters.
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