“Nor even at our own,” objected Mr. Morris.  “I assure you I feel myself quite capable of composing verses to fair ones yet, Mr. Jefferson.”  And indeed he was, and rhymed his way gayly to the heart of many a lady in the days to come.

As for Calvert, he only smiled at the light banter at his expense, scarcely understanding it, indeed, for as yet he carried a singularly untouched heart about in his healthy young body.

Mr. Morris arose:  “I must be going,” he said.  “I have sent my things on to the Hotel de Richelieu—­” but Mr. Jefferson pressed him back into his seat.

“You are my guest for the day,” he declared, interrupting him, “and must take your first breakfast with Ned and myself here at the Legation.  I will send you around to the rue de Richelieu in my carriage later on.  I have a thousand questions to ask you.  I must have all the news from America—­how fares General Washington, and my friend, James Madison, and pretty Miss Molly Crenshawe?—­there’s a lovely woman for you, Ned, in the bud, ’tis true, but likely to blossom into a perfect rose.  There is but one beauty in all Paris to compare with her, I think.  And that is the sister of your old friend d’Azay.  And what does Patrick Henry and Pendleton these days?  I hear that Hamilton holds strange views about the finances and has spoken of them freely in Congress.  What are they?  My letters give me no details as yet.”  And more and more questions during the abundant breakfast which had been spread for them in the morning-room adjoining Mr. Jefferson’s library.  Now it was a broadside of inquiries aimed at Mr. Gouverneur Morris concerning the newly adopted Constitution which he had helped fashion for the infant union of States and the chances of electing General Washington as first president of that union; now it was question after question regarding Dr. Franklin’s reception in America on his return from France and release from his arduous duties and the vexatious persecutions to which he had been subjected by his former colleagues—­the most outrageous and unprovoked that ever man suffered—­and there were endless inquiries about personal, friends, about the currency in America, and about the feeling of security and tranquillity of the States.

The breakfast, generous as it was, was over long before Mr. Jefferson had tired of his questioning, and they were still sitting around the table talking when a visitor was announced.  It was Monsieur le Vicomte de Beaufort, Lafayette’s young kinsman and officer in the American war, who came in directly, bowing to Mr. Morris, whom he had known well in America, and embracing Calvert with a friendly fervor that almost five years of separation had not diminished.  He had known of his coming through Mr. Jefferson, and, happening to pass the hotel, had stopped to inquire at the porter’s lodge whether the travellers had arrived.