He was anxious for the duke to finish his remarks. What interest had he in all those travels, those Arabic translations, that Oriental poetry, or that poison from America? He was seized with the desire to know what such a charming creature as Marianne thought. Ah! what a pretty girl! He had already inquired her name; he happened to know Uncle Kayser; the painter had formerly sent him a printed memoir _On the Method of Moralizing Art through the Mind_.

The minister experienced on hearing Rosas the feeling of enervation that attacked him in the Chamber when, near the dinner-hour, an orator became too long-winded in his speech. He was unable to resist remarking in a whisper to the President of the Council, who was near him:

"Suppose we call for the cloture?"

Monsieur Collard in a diplomatic way expressed his approval of Rosas by a look that at the same time rebuked his colleague Vaudrey for his lack of sufficient gravity.

The duke did not tire any one except Sulpice. He was listened to with delight. The sentimental exterior of this man concealed a jester's nature, and the sober appearance of this Castilian wore all the characteristics of a polished lounger. The least smile that animated his pa.s.sive countenance became at once attractive. Marianne thought him most delightful, or rather, she found him just what she had formerly believed him to be, a refined, delicate and very simple man in spite of his graciously haughty manner. When he concluded, the room echoed with the thunder of the applause. Even in the adjoining rooms the people applauded, for silence had been secured so as to hear his remarks. With a wave of his gloved hand, Rosas seemed to disclaim that his discourse merited the applause, and he received the greetings as a man of the world receives a salutation, not as a tenor acknowledging the homage paid to him. He strove to make his way through the group of young men who were stationed behind him.

"At last!" said Vaudrey, in a half-whisper.

It was the moment for which he had been waiting. He would be able now to address himself to Mademoiselle Kayser!

He hastened to offer his arm to Marianne.

Madame Marsy, eagerly and quickly, had already appropriated Monsieur de Rosas, who was moreover surrounded and escorted by a crowd who congratulated him noisily. Except for that, Marianne would have gone direct to him in obedience to her desires.

Vaudrey's arm, however, was not to be despised. The new minister was the leading figure in the a.s.sembly. She looked at Sulpice full in the face as if to inquire the cause of his eagerness in placing himself at her side, and observing that this somewhat mocking interrogation disconcerted him, she smiled at him graciously.

She pa.s.sed on smiling, amid the double row of guests who bowed as she pa.s.sed. She suddenly felt a sort of bewilderment, it seemed to her that all these salutations were for her benefit. She believed herself created for adoration. Inwardly she felt well-disposed towards Sulpice now, because he had so gallantly chosen and distinguished her among all these women.

After all, she would easily find Rosas again. And who knows? It would perhaps be better that the duke should seek her. Meanwhile, she crossed the salons, leaning on the arm of the minister. It was a kind of triumph.

Good-naturedly and politely, but without pride, the minister received all these attentions, becoming as they were to him in his official capacity, and as he moved on he uttered from time to time some commonplace compliment to Marianne, reserving his more intimate remarks for the immediate future.

Before the buffet, brilliant with light and the gleaming of crystal, the golden-tinted champagne sparkling in the goblets, the ruddy tone of the punch, the many fruits, the bright-colored _granite_ and the ices, Vaudrey stopped, releasing the arm of the young girl but remaining beside her and pa.s.sing her the sherbet which a lackey handed him over the piled-up plates.

Groups were always encircling him; searching, half-anxious glances greeted his. An eager hunt after smiles and greetings accompanied the hunt for _tutti frutti_. But the minister confined his attentions to Marianne, chafing under the eagerness of his desires, though bearing them with good grace, as if he were really the lover of the pretty girl.

Marianne stood stirring the sherbet with the point of a silver-plated spoon, examining this statesman, as seductive as a fashionable man, with that womanly curiosity that divines a silent declaration. A gold weigher does not balance more keenly in his scales an unfamiliar coin than a woman estimates and gauges _the value_ of a stranger.

Marianne readily understood that she had fascinated Vaudrey. This Vaudrey! Notwithstanding that he possessed a charming wife, he still permitted himself to recognize beauty in other women, and to tell them so, for he so informed Marianne! He declared it by his smile, his sparkling eyes, and the protecting bearing that he instinctively manifested in the presence of this creature who glanced at him with perfect composure.

In the confusion attending the attack on the buffet and in the presence of the crowd that formed a half-circle round the minister, it was not possible for him to commit himself too much; and the conversation, half-drowned by the noise of voices, was carried on by fits and starts; but in order to make themselves understood, Vaudrey and Marianne drew nearer each other and found themselves occasionally almost pressed against each other, so that the light breath of this woman and the scent of new-mown hay that she exhaled, wafted over Sulpice's face. He looked at her so admiringly that it was noticeable. She was laced in a light blue satin gown that showed her rosy arms to the elbows, and her shoulders gleamed with a rosy tint that suggested the rays of a winter sun lighting up the pure snow. A singular animation, half-feverish, beamed in her small, piercing, restless eyes, and her delicate ears with their well-marked rims were quite red. The light that fell from the wax candles imparted to her hair a t.i.tian red tint as if she had bound her locks with henna during the night. She was visibly a.s.sured of her power and smiled with a strange and provoking air.

Vaudrey felt really much disturbed, he was attracted and half-angered by this pretty girl with dilating nostrils who calmly swallowed her gla.s.s of sherbet. He thought her at once exquisite and lovely, doubly charming with her Parisian grace and in her ball costume, her bare flesh as l.u.s.trous as mother-of-pearl under the brilliant light.

Her corsage was ornamented on the left side by an embroidered black b.u.t.terfly, with outstretched wings of a brownish, brilliant tint, and Vaudrey, with a smile, asked her, without quite understanding what he said, if it were an emblematic crest.

She smiled.

"Precisely," she replied. "What I wear in my corsage I have in my mind.

Black b.u.t.terflies--or _blue devils_, as you choose."

"You are not exceptional," said Sulpice. "All women are such."

"All women in your opinion then, are a little--what is it called? a little out of the perpendicular--or to speak more to the point, a little queer, Monsieur le Ministre?"

The minister smiled in his turn, and looked at Marianne, whose eyes, seen between the blinking lids, gleamed as the electric eyes of a cat shine between its long lashes.

"No," he said, "no, but I blame them somewhat for loving the blue only in the b.u.t.terflies of which you speak, the _blue devils_ that penetrate their brain! They are born for blue, however, for that which the provincial poets style 'the azure', and they shun it as if blue were detestable. _Blue!_ Nonsense! Good for men, those simpletons, who in the present age, are the only partisans of _blue_ in pa.s.sion and in life."

Whether he desired it or not, he had drawn still closer to this creature who studied him like a strategist while he fawned on her with his glances, losing himself in that "blue" of which he spoke with a certain elegance, in which he desired to express mockery, but which was nevertheless sincere. In the same jesting tone, pointing to the light blue of her gown, she said:

"You see, your Excellency, that all women do not dislike blue."

"If it is fashionable, _parbleu!_ And if it becomes their beauty as well as this stuff of yours, they would adore it, most a.s.suredly."

"They love it otherwise, too--In pa.s.sion and in life. That depends on the women--and on men," she added, showing her white teeth while smiling graciously.

She dropped her spoon in the saucer and handed the sherbet to a servant.

With an involuntary movement--or perhaps, after all, it was a shrewdly calculated one--she almost grazed Sulpice's cheek and lips when she extended her round and firm arm, and Sulpice, who was somewhat bewildered, was severely tempted, like some collegian, to kiss it in pa.s.sage.

He closed his eyes and a moment after, on reopening them, the disturbing element having pa.s.sed, he saw Marianne before him with her fan in her hand, and as if the image of which he spoke only now recurred to his memory, he said:

"Mademoiselle, it seems to me that in this very costume and as charming as you are at this moment, I have seen your portrait at the Salon; is it not so?"

"Yes," she said. "It is the very best painting that my uncle has produced."

"I thought it excellent before seeing you," said Sulpice, "but now--"

She did not feel satisfied with the smile that accompanied the compliment. She wished to hear the entire phrase.

"Now--?" said she, as a most seductive smile played on her lips.

"Now, I find it inferior to the original!"

"One always says so, your Excellency, except perhaps to the artist; but I was greatly afraid that you would not think me so, arrayed in this--this famous blue--this sky-blue that you love so much."

"And that I love a hundred times more from this evening forward," said he, in a changed and genuinely affected tone.

She did not reply, but looked at him full in the face as if to inform him that she understood him. He was quite pale.

"Would you not like to be one of the bright ornaments of my salon, as you are of that of Madame Marsy?" said he, in a whisper.

"With the greatest happiness, your Excellency."

What Sulpice said was not heard by the others; but Marianne felt that she was observed, envied already, and manifested her complete satisfaction with a toss of her head. In this atmosphere of flattery, oppressive as with the heavy odor of incense, she experienced a sensation of omnipotence, the intoxication of that power with which Vaudrey was invested, whose envied reflection was cast on her by that simple aside spoken in the midst of the crowd.

She was delighted and exceedingly proud. She almost forgot that her visit had been made on Rosas's account.

Vaudrey was about to add something, when Madame Marsy in pa.s.sing to greet her guests, noticed Marianne and grasping her hand:

"I beg your pardon, your Excellency," she said, "but I must take her away from you. I have been asked for her."

"By whom?" said Vaudrey.

"Monsieur de Rosas!"