Dubourg did not stop to examine all that; he remembered what his landlady had said to him, and tried to think the marchioness charming.

While she addressed him in the most flattering terms, he cast a glance about the salon.

An antiquated chandelier, suspended from the ceiling, lighted the room, which was very large; the hangings must once have been handsome, but were beginning to show too many signs of age. The floor was covered with an immense rug, which was never made for a salon. The covering of the furniture was of two colors: there was a blue ottoman and yellow chairs; and the latter were not alike. In default of a clock, there was an enormous jar of flowers in the centre of the mantel, and a number of candlesticks on either side. Several card-tables of different sizes completed the furnishing of that salon, which seemed to Dubourg to be quite as venerable as Madame de Versac's family.

Having examined the room, Dubourg turned his attention to the company.

There were only three ladies besides the marchioness. One, who seemed to be about sixty years old, and who was called the baroness, talked incessantly of her estates, her chateaux, her property, and her servants; she talked so loud that there was not a moment's silence. A young woman, who was rather pretty, but seemed rather awkward, and did not open her mouth except to laugh or to say _yes_ or _no_, was called the Vicomtesse de Fairfignan; while the third, who was apparently about thirty years old, and whom they called Madame de Grandcourt, was half reclining on the ottoman, evidently disposed to flirt; for she cast languorous glances at all the men, and made abundant use of her eyes, which had been handsome, but were so encircled with black that her eyebrows seemed to extend all the way round.

There were seven or eight men in the company; all of them seemed to be counts, or barons, or chevaliers, but not one of them, either in dress or bearing, gave any sign of wealth or rank. Monsieur le chevalier had a frock-coat, the sleeves of which were so short that they were far from reaching his wrists; and when he drew his handkerchief, he took great care to turn his back and conceal it from the company.

The count wore torn lace wristbands, and a ruff stained with liquor and tobacco. He seemed to take great satisfaction in displaying his hands, which were covered with huge rings with red and yellow stones; but the blackness of the hands themselves produced a curious effect beside the wristbands and the jewels.

The baron, who had his hair powdered, and seemed much embarra.s.sed by his queue, which kept getting inside his collar, wore a new black coat and an old pair of nankeen trousers, over which dangled charms in the shape of fruit and sh.e.l.ls.

The other men were dressed in the same style.

"Sacrebleu!" thought Dubourg, astounded by the aspect of all those n.o.ble personages; "if my landlady hadn't told me what she did about the Marquise de Versac, I should imagine that I was at an old-clothes dealer's, with a parcel of counts from Rue Vide-Gousset."

Meanwhile, the conversation did not flag. Everybody talked and laughed at once. They manifested the greatest consideration for Baron Potoski; the marchioness overwhelmed him with attentions, the old baroness invited him to visit her in the country, the viscountess smiled upon him, and Madame de Grandcourt flashed glances at him the meaning whereof was not at all equivocal, while the men applauded everything he said.

Dubourg was flattered by these attentions, for the shrewdest and cleverest men generally allow themselves to be cajoled by anything that flatters their self-esteem.

Punch, liqueurs, and sweetmeats were served, and the whole company pounced upon them. The old baroness drank like a porter, the viscountess stuffed herself with cakes, and the languorous Grandcourt swallowed two gla.s.ses of punch in rapid succession, exclaiming that it was not strong enough.

Dubourg imitated his neighbors; he helped himself to punch, and complimented Madame de Versac on the liveliness of her company.

"Oh! we don't stand on ceremony," she replied; "what's the use of tedious formalities between people who are all as good as one another?"

"True, you are right; I like this sort of thing," said Dubourg, beginning already to feel the effects of the punch. "Etiquette is a burden that people of sense should leave at the door."

"Ah! Monsieur de Potoski, you talk like Bareme!" said the old baroness, returning to the punch. "You are a palatine of the old stock."

"Not very old, madame."

"But the best, at all events," said Madame de Versac, resting her foot lightly on Dubourg's; whereupon he turned and tried to gaze tenderly at her, at the same time pa.s.sing his hand behind the marchioness, who allowed him to take liberties without seeming to notice it, which Dubourg considered very patrician behavior.

"For my part, I like to talk nonsense," said the young viscountess, who was beginning to venture upon a sentence or two, now that she had eaten.

"It makes me tired when[B] everyone's sober-faced."

[B] "_Ousqu'on_ est serieux," instead of _quand on_, etc.

The viscountess's _ousqu'on_ made Dubourg wince; Madame de Versac noticed it, and made haste to whisper to him:

"She's a German; she speaks with a strong accent."

"But aren't you going to give us something to do this evening, madame la marquise?" said the chevalier, pulling at his sleeves to lengthen them.

"That's so, my love," said the baroness; "why don't we play cards?"

"Ah! yes, let us do something," said Madame de Grandcourt, rolling her eyes seductively; "I must always be doing something."

"Perhaps Monsieur de Potoski does not play?" said the marchioness, turning to Dubourg.

"I beg your pardon, madame; I shall be very glad to play."

"In that case, I will start the tables. You are sure that you care to play, baron?"

"With great pleasure, madame," said Dubourg, overjoyed to have an excuse for removing his hand, which he was tired of holding behind Madame de Versac's back.

Several games of ecarte were begun. The chevalier proposed a game of _creps_ for the ladies; whereupon Dubourg said to himself:

"It seems that the ladies of the best society have tastes very different from their sisters of the bourgeoisie; perhaps madame la marquise is fond of _biribi_ too."

Monsieur de Potoski found himself at an ecarte table with the count, whose lace cuffs did not prevent his dealing the cards with rare skill.

The game soon became animated. A tall, thin gentleman, who stood near Dubourg, bet rolls of twenty-five louis on his game, which he placed on the table without unrolling them, and which pa.s.sed rapidly into the count's pockets, the tall man, whose threadbare costume might have led one to take him for an unfortunate pet.i.tioner for alms, seeming to pay no heed whatever to his loss.

"These men play a very n.o.ble game," said Dubourg to himself; and, not choosing to be outdone by the person who was betting on him, he doubled his stakes, and his money pa.s.sed into the hands with the lace cuffs. But the punch circulated freely; to please Madame de Grandcourt, it had been made much stronger; the company began to get excited and the game became animated.

Madame de Versac seated herself beside Dubourg.

"I mean to bring Monsieur de Potoski good luck," she said, sitting close against him, and showing a row of teeth set like a wild boar's tusks.

"I trust that you will change the luck, madame!" observed Dubourg, who had already lost more than a thousand francs, which he was determined to win back. Madame la marquise made no other reply than to place her foot lovingly on his. With each game that Dubourg lost, she bore down a little heavier, and tried to make him forget his bad luck by saying sweet things to him; but Dubourg did not listen.

"I hope to see you often, Monsieur de Potoski."

"Yes, madame.--Ten louis more, this time."

"I am a bold player," said the count; "I'll take whatever you bet."

"Yes, of course, monsieur le comte will give you your revenge," said the marchioness, "if you lose to-night."

"If I lose!" muttered Dubourg; "I should say so! almost two thousand francs! What a breach in my cash-box!"

"You must come to my country house on the Rhone, my dear Potoski. I insist on your coming."

"Yes, madame la marquise; yes, most certainly.--The king is always in the other hand! it's the most extraordinary thing!"

"We will walk in my park."

"Beaten again!"

"We will enjoy the fresh, cool breezes in the evening."

"It's stifling here!"

"Pray take something."

"I should be glad to take back just what I have lost."

"Do you remain long in Lyon?"