"What, pray?"

"But, no, that would have been contrary to all the proprieties! To be sure, she snaps her fingers at them."

"But what was it that you thought?"

"Nothing; or, rather, I don't choose to tell you."

"You must have seen your friend often since that evening?"

"Only once. I have no idea what she is doing now. She is hardly ever seen in society. She probably has something to keep her busy.

Saint-Bergame must be replaced. For you know, I suppose, that they have quarrelled? Frederique is not in the habit of remaining unengaged.

Before Saint-Bergame there was another, and before him another, and another. She loves variety."

I admire the way women abuse their intimate friends! At that moment, I wondered what they would say when they spoke of their enemies; the difference could hardly be perceptible.--And so Madame Dauberny had had a large number of weaknesses! She had never had a serious attachment!

That was a pity; and it surprised me; for it seemed to me that she was just the woman to inspire one.

I do not know what I should have said in reply to Madame Sordeville's remark, but a visitor arrived: a lady of uncertain age, almost lost in gauze and lace and veils, which were heaped upon her head and hung down about her body. I fancied that I had a cloud before me, or one of Isabey's pictures, minus the beautiful coloring. I surrendered my place to that atmospheric personage, and took my leave. Madame Sordeville made me promise to attend her next reception, and honored me with a glance that filled my soul with joy.

I left the house, as light as a feather. I did not walk, I fairly bounded. Pleasure transformed me into a goat; I longed to dance. You will consider, doubtless, that I was very childish, and that a man who had had so many amorous adventures should have been more blase; you are entirely wrong, for I was blase in no respect; my last _bonne fortune_ made me as happy as the first of all. That was a dispensation of Providence in my favor, for blase people have two drawbacks: they do not enjoy themselves, and they bore their friends.

Pomponne smiled again when I reached home; that fellow was not such a fool as I supposed: he read my face very well indeed.

I waited impatiently for the Thursday which was to give me an opportunity to see the charming Armantine once more. I had thought of nothing else since my call upon her; she was so affable and expansive that day, that I believed that the moment of my happiness could not be very distant. She had received the avowal of my love without indignation; nay, she had seemed to listen to it with pleasure; she had abandoned her hand to me and let me put it to my lips; and, but for that inopportune visitor, who could say that I should not have obtained more?

No matter! it seemed that I was fairly justified in hoping.

Thursday arrived in due course. Pomponne was ordered to surpa.s.s himself in dressing my hair; I do not know whether he succeeded, but I do know that he pulled my hair for half an hour; so that he made my head extremely sore. But I did not scold him. I dressed with my eye on the clock. I longed to be there, but I said to myself that it was more adroit to make her wait a little--and I had no doubt that she was waiting for me.

The moment came at last. I set out with my heart full of Armantine's image. I arrived at her door. I remembered that in society one must wear a mask, so that one's secret thoughts may not be divined. But that mask embarra.s.sed me; I could hardly endure it.

There were a good many people there before me. So much the better, I thought. The more numerous the company, the greater one's freedom of action. Monsieur Sordeville greeted me warmly, shook my hand, and reproached me for not coming to their little receptions for several weeks. His excessive amiability should have made me remorseful; but I had never had the slightest liking for the man; and, in any event, why did he neglect his wife?

I succeeded in approaching her for whose sake, and that alone, I had come. She greeted me most graciously; but when I tried to exchange with her one of those glances which are far more eloquent than empty words, I could not meet her eye. She had turned to a young man who had just been presented to her, and received his compliments with a profusion of little smirks and grimaces, which were very pretty, perhaps, but which I considered sadly out of place at that moment. I flattered myself, however, that my turn would come; that she had not forgotten that I was there, within a few feet. But lo! the fair-haired youth of the other evening, Monsieur Mondival, came up and entered into conversation with her; the fellow must have said something very amusing, to make her laugh so heartily! But Madame Dauberny had a.s.sured me that the man was stupid, and I relied upon her judgment. Next, a tall man, with black beard, whiskers, and moustaches, came to pay his respects to the mistress of the house. She greeted him with a smile, playing with her fan; their conversation seemed likely to be protracted, and I began to grow weary of waiting for my turn. I walked away, presumably with a very long face; and to cap the climax of my woes, I almost ran into the arms of the gentleman who kept his eyes almost closed, but who saw well enough to recognize me, and entered into conversation with me.

I have no idea what answer I made. I turned my back on him, for he bored me beyond words. I watched the whist players for a while, but soon returned to the salon where Armantine was, saying to myself:

"It can't go on like this; if she laughs with others, there is no reason why she shouldn't laugh with me; I am a fool not to stand my ground."

And I approached Madame Sordeville, who was talking with a lady.

Suddenly she turned toward me and burst out laughing.

"Mon Dieu! what on earth is the matter with you to-night, Monsieur Rochebrune? What a horrible face you are making! Have you the toothache?"

When one is already in an ill temper, and is trying to conceal it, there is nothing more maddening than to have someone ask what the matter is; the result is that, instead of simply looking unhappy, you make a grimace; and that is probably what I did, for Armantine restrained with difficulty a longing to laugh again, while I muttered, biting my lips:

"The matter, madame? Why, nothing. What do you suppose is the matter? I have never had the toothache."

"Monsieur," said a tall, thin old woman, who was sitting beside Madame Sordeville, and had, I suppose, heard my last words, "put in some cotton soaked in eau de Cologne. Soak the cotton thoroughly and put it in the tooth. It's an excellent remedy, I a.s.sure you! It doesn't take away the pain at once, but, after a few days, you suffer much less."

"But, madame," I said to the old lady who insisted upon my having the toothache, "I have not complained, I am not in pain! I don't know why you insist that----"

"Then, monsieur," she continued, paying no heed to me, "you have another remedy, bay salt. Two or three grains of it produce saliva; you spit, and take more salt, and keep on till the pain is relieved."

I saw that Madame Sordeville was laughing heartily at the impatience with which I listened to the old lady, who continued:

"Above all things, monsieur, don't have them extracted! Oh! keep your teeth, monsieur! keep them, by all means! You no sooner have them taken out than you regret them. I myself, monsieur, have lost fourteen, and I am in despair to-day! I feel that something is lacking. Of course, I know that one can----"

I had had enough. Something more was to be lacking to that lady; to wit, myself as a listener for the entire evening. I had not come there to attend a course of lectures on dentistry. It seemed to me that Armantine was laughing at me while I was having that consultation about my teeth.

She had gone to the piano, meanwhile, and the concert began. If it was to be as fine a performance as on the previous evening, the prospect was captivating. I felt inclined to find fault with everything. Now that the music was under way, it would be hard for me to talk to Armantine; she either accompanied, or turned the pages for singers and players. In short, she devoted herself to everybody, except myself. So I had encouraged myself with a false hope! She did not love me--and yet, how charming she was only three days before! Did she not let me squeeze her hand and kiss it? Did she not smile at my declaration of love? Suppose that she ostentatiously treated me coldly before the world, only to conceal more effectually the sentiments I inspired? I grasped at that idea, because it left me some hope. Moreover, if it were not so, Madame Sordeville was a downright coquette, who had been making sport of me and would do it again! I preferred to believe that she was dissembling her love; if so, she dissembled perfectly.

The Baron von Brunzbrack entered the salon and came up to me:

"Ponshour, mein gut frent Rocheprune!"

"Good-evening, monsieur le baron!"

"Do you know if Montame Dauberny vill come to tis barty?"

"I have no idea; I have not seen her since we three were together."

"Ach! you haf not seen her."

And the baron pressed my hand with new warmth.

"So id is mit me. I haf pin often to bay mein resbects, put te lady, she haf pin always oud. Haf you pin to see her?"

"No; I have left my card, nothing more."

"Ach! gut, gut! you pe not in loafe mit her shtill?"

"What, baron! are you still harping on that idea? How many times must I tell you that I have never made love to Madame Dauberny, that I have never thought of doing it?"

"Ach! ja! ja! You pe in loafe mit anoder. I haf forgot."

The baron could not understand how anybody could fail to make love to Madame Dauberny, and I could not understand how Madame Sordeville could allow everybody to make love to her; in love, each of us has his own way of looking at things.

Suddenly Brunzbrack seized my arm as if he meant to tear it from its socket. I thought that he had an attack of hysteria; but, as I saw Madame Dauberny enter the salon at that moment, I understood what had caused his convulsive movement.

Frederique wore an original costume, as indeed she generally did. A black velvet gown, high in the neck, fitted closely to her figure, which seemed more than ordinarily slender; her hair was dressed with sprays of jet and black velvet bows, and that severe style gave to her face, which was unusually pale, a serious expression. I did not know whether I ought still to be angry with her; I remembered the decidedly brusque way in which she had dismissed me, but in the next moment I remembered all the confidence and friendship she had shown me. While I hesitated, trying to make up my mind, Frederique pa.s.sed us, and bowed coolly enough to us both.

Brunzbrack left me, to dog the steps of the woman he adored, and I continued to prowl about Armantine. We were both playing the same game.

Should we have luck? Up to that time, I had seen no prospect of it.

Monsieur Mondival sang several ballads; he sang them precisely as a schoolboy repeats his lessons; but as the ballads themselves were amusing, the company laughed heartily, and the singer attributed it to his own performance, whereas his only merit was his skilful choice of songs.

After he had finished, the black-bearded man, who had talked a long while with Armantine, seated himself at the piano, and sang a grand aria with infinitely more a.s.surance than voice. But a.s.surance is a great thing in society. He was loudly applauded, and when he left the piano I was certain that Madame Sordeville complimented him. If I chose--one thing was certain, that I had a better voice than that man.

All this irritated me; I was intensely annoyed to find that she paid no attention to me, and I went to the piano and began to turn over the music. But she observed my movements sufficiently to see that I was there, for she came to me and said: