"Is it not well arranged? Silvani did it; he has not his equal, that man. The diamonds in the hair go splendidly, and then this lofty style of head-dressing gives a majestic turn to the neck. I do not know whether you are aware that I have always been a coquette as regards my neck; it is my only bit of vanity. Have you brought your little color-pots?"

"Yes, aunt, I have the whole apparatus, and if you will sit down--"

"I am frightfully pale-just a little, Ernest; you know what I told you,"

and she turned her head, presenting her right eye to me. I can still see that eye.

I do not know what strange perfume, foreign to aunts in general, rose from her garments.

"You understand, my dear boy, that it is only an occasion like the present, and the necessities of a historical costume, that make me consent to paint like this."

"My dear little aunt, if you move, my hand will shake." And, indeed, in touching her long lashes, my hand trembled.

"Ah! yes, in the corner, a little--you are right, it gives a softness, a vagueness, a--it is very funny, that little pot of blue. How ugly it must be! How things lead on one to another! Once one's hair is powdered, one must have a little pearl powder on one's face in order not to look as yellow as an orange; and one's cheeks once whitened, one can't--you are tickling me with your brush--one can't remain like a miller, so a touch of rouge is inevitable. And then--see how wicked it is--if, after all that, one does not enlarge the eyes a bit, they look as if they had been bored with a gimlet, don't they? It is like this that one goes on little by little, till one comes to the gallows."

My aunt began to laugh freely, as she studied her face.

"Ah! that is very effective what you have just done--well under the eye, that's it. What animation it gives to the look! How clever those creatures are, how well they know everything that becomes one! It is shameful, for with them it is a trick, nothing more. Oh! you may put on a little more of that blue of yours, I see what it does now. It has a very good effect. How you are arching the eyebrows. Don't you think it is a little too black? You know I should not like to look as if--you are right, though. Where did you learn all that? You might earn a deal of money, do you know, if you set up a practice."

"Well, aunt, are you satisfied?"

My aunt held her hand-gla.s.s at a distance, brought it near, held it away again, smiled, and, leaning back in her chair, said: "It must be acknowledged that it is charming, this. What do your friends call it?"

"Make-up, aunt."

"It is vexatious that it has not another name, for really I shall have recourse to it for the evening--from time to time. It is certain that it is attractive. Haven't you a little box for the lips?"

"Here it is."

"Ah! in a bottle, it is liquid."

"It is a kind of vinegar, as you see. Don't move, aunt. Put out your lips as if you wished to kiss me. You don't by chance want to?"

"Yes, and you deserve it. You will teach me your little accomplishments, will you not?"

"Willingly, aunt."

"Your vinegar is miraculous! what brightness it gives to the lips, and how white one's teeth look. It is true my teeth were always--"

"Another of your bits of vanity."

"It is done, then. Thank you." She smiled at me mincingly, for the vinegar stung her lips a little.

With her moistened finger she took a patch which she placed with charming coquetry under her eye, and another which she placed near the corner of her mouth, and then, radiant and adorable, exclaimed: "Hide away your little color-pots; I hear your uncle coming for me. Clasp my bracelets for me. Midnight! O my poor horses!"

At that moment my uncle entered in silk shorts and a domino.

"I hope I do not intrude," said he, gayly, on seeing me.

"What nonsense!" said my aunt, turning toward him. "Ernest is going to the Emba.s.sy, like ourselves, and I have offered him a seat in the carriage."

At the aspect of my aunt, my uncle, dazzled, held out his gloved hand to her, saying, "You are enchanting this evening, my dear." Then, with a sly smile, "Your complexion has a fine brightness, and your eyes have a wonderful brilliancy."

"Oh, it is the fire they have been making up--it is stifling here. But you, my dear, you look splendid; I have never seen your beard so black."

"It is because I am so pale--I am frozen. Jean forgot to look after my fire at all, and it went out. Are you ready?"

My aunt smiled in turn as she took up her fan.

CHAPTER VIII. MY AUNT AS VENUS

Since that day when I kissed Madame de B. right on the centre of the neck, as she held out her forehead to me, there has crept into our intercourse an indescribable, coquettish coolness, which is nevertheless by no means unpleasant. The matter of the kiss has never been completely explained. It happened just as I left Saint-Cyr. I was full of ardor, and the cravings of my heart sometimes blinded me. I say that they sometimes blinded me; I repeat, blinded me, and this is true, for really I must have been possessed to have kissed my aunt on the neck as I did that day. But let that pa.s.s.

It was not that she was hardly worth it; my little auntie, as I used to call her then, was the prettiest woman in the world--coquettish, elegant; and what a foot! and, above all, that delightful little--I don't know what--which is so fashionable now, and which tempts one always to say too much.

When I say that I must have been possessed, it is because I think of the consequences to which that kiss might have led. Her husband, General de B., being my direct superior, it might have got me into a very awkward position; besides, there is the respect due to one's family. Oh, I have never failed in that.

But I do not know why I am recalling all these old recollections, which have nothing in common with what I am about to relate to you. My intention was simply to tell you that since my return from Mexico I go pretty frequently to Madame de B.'s, as perhaps you do also, for she keeps up a rather good establishment, receives every Monday evening, and there is usually a crowd of people at her house, for she is very entertaining. There is no form of amus.e.m.e.nt that she does not resort to in order to keep up her reputation as a woman of fashion. I must own, however, that I had never seen anything at her house to equal what I saw last Monday.

I was in the ante-room, where the footman was helping me off with my top-coat, when Jean, approaching me with a suspicion of mystery, said: "My mistress expects to see you immediately, Monsieur, in her bedroom.

If you will walk along the pa.s.sage and knock at the door at the end, you will find her."

When one has just returned from the other side of the world, such words sound queer. The old affair of the kiss recurred to me in spite of myself. What could my aunt want with me?

I tapped quietly at the door, and heard at once an outburst of stifled laughter.

"Wait a moment," exclaimed a laughing voice.

"I won't be seen in this state," whispered another--"Yes"--"No"--"You are absurd, my dear, since it is an affair of art."--"Ha, ha, ha." And they laughed and laughed again.

At last a voice cried, "Come in," and I turned the handle.

At first glance I could only make out a confused chaos, impossible to describe, amidst which my aunt was bustling about clad in pink fleshings. Clad, did I say?--very airily.

The furniture, the carpet, the mantel-piece were enc.u.mbered, almost buried under a heterogeneous ma.s.s of things. Muslin petticoats, tossed down haphazard, pieces of lace, a cardboard helmet covered with gilt paper, open jewel-cases, bows of ribbon; curling-tongs, half hidden in the ashes; and on every side little pots, paint-brushes, odds and ends of all kinds. Behind two screens, which ran across the room, I could hear whisperings, and the buzzing sound peculiar to women dressing themselves. In one corner Silvani--the ill.u.s.trious Silvani, still wearing the large white ap.r.o.n he a.s.sumes when powdering his clients--was putting away his powder-puff and turning down his sleeves with a satisfied air. I stood petrified. What was going on at my aunt's?

She discovered my astonishment, and without turning round she said in agitated tones:

"Ah! is it you, Ernest?" Then as if making up her mind, she broke into a hearty burst of laughter, like all women who have good teeth, and added, with a slightly superior air, "You see, we are having private theatricals."

Then turning toward me with her elegant coiffure powdered to excess, I could see that her face was painted like that of a priestess of antiquity. That gauze, that atmosphere, redolent with feminine perfumes, and behind those screens-behind those screens!

"Women in society," I said to myself, looking about me, "must be mad to amuse themselves in this fashion."

"And what piece are you going to play, aunt, in such an attractive costume?"