Monsieur de Montreville walked about his salons with the amiable manner of a host who excels in the art of doing the honors. He talked with an elderly marchioness who was sitting alone on a sofa; he said a courteous word to a lady who was not dancing; and, on his way to her, found time to bestow a compliment or two on the young dancers; he saw to it that the punch was pa.s.sed around, and the ices; he spent a moment looking over the ecarte table, and if somebody was wanted to take a bet he was always ready.

But what was Frederic doing, leaning against that mantel-shelf? he seemed to be devoting his whole attention to the dance; but was it really the quadrille which interested him so deeply? and why, if he was thinking of nothing but that pretty maiden's agile movements, did he seem to be suffering? Yes, to the keen observer, his tranquillity was a.s.sumed, the smile which pa.s.sed over his lips when he was spoken to was forced and unnatural. Frederic was preoccupied, but not with the dance.

A few feet away from him a young woman was seated, a young woman not more than twenty years old, although she had been three years married to a s.e.xagenarian notary, who was in the cardroom at that moment.

Madame Dernange was very pretty; her vivacity, the sparkle of her eyes, her costume, her brilliant intellect, everything about her had a dazzling effect: she attracted, subjugated, enslaved, with a glance; but, as she knew the power of her charms, she sought constantly to add to the number of her adorers. At sixteen, she married Monsieur Dernange, without the slightest affection for him; but she married him joyfully.

She was impatient to be her own mistress, and to give a free rein to her penchant for flirtation.

With a husband nearly sixty, she was very certain of being able to do just what she chose; and, in fact, Monsieur Dernange left her perfectly untrammelled. She was seen at all receptions, b.a.l.l.s, festivities of every description. Sometimes her husband escorted her, but generally he went to bed about the time that his wife left the house; which did not prevent them from leading a very peaceful life. It is a very simple matter to live happily with your wife: all you have to do is just to allow her to do whatever she desires.

Monsieur Dernange had an abundance of _savoir vivre_; he was enchanted to have his wife enjoy herself. Many people declared that the young woman did not abuse his confidence, and it is very possible: she was a great flirt, but flirts love no one; however, it is not well to trust them too far.

Frederic had not been able to look upon the brilliant Madame Dernange with an indifferent eye. She had had no difficulty in setting him on fire with a glance, and with a glance she had realized her triumph. The young Comte de Montreville was not a conquest to be disdained; Madame Dernange resolved to fasten him to her chariot, and for that nothing more was necessary than a glance or two, an occasional smile, a faint pressure of the hand, and a veiled remark uttered in a voice that seemed to tremble slightly. And the coquette used all her powers with such art!

She was not in love, and she knew so well how to win love! A person who loves sincerely has much more difficulty in making an impression than one who does not love at all; for the latter is able to avail herself of all her advantages, while the other, striving to appear amiable, is often only awkward and embarra.s.sed. Ninon said that, and Ninon knew what she was talking about.

Poor Frederic very soon succ.u.mbed to that treatment; he believed that she loved, yes, adored him! and for a few days he lost his head. But at this party of his father's a young and gorgeous colonel had made his appearance; he was a man notorious for his _bonnes fortunes_, his amorous adventures; a man, in a word, whom any woman might be proud to number among her captives, and Madame Dernange had at once determined to achieve this new triumph.

Poor Frederic! you were utterly forgotten: she no longer gave a thought to you, but was engrossed by the handsome colonel. Now and again, she deigned to smile sweetly upon you, it is true; but you were in love, you were jealous, and you saw that the coquette instantly turned her eyes upon the man she desired to enslave.

Several times the young man had approached the scintillating Dernange; he wished to show her that he had detected her perfidy; but she contented herself with smiling at him, and saying:

"What on earth is the matter with you to-night, Monsieur de Montreville?

You have a solemn air which is most amusing."

How comforting such words are to a jealous lover! Frederic made no reply, but walked away with rage in his heart, while the coquette laughed long and loud at a bright remark made by the colonel, or by some other of her adorers.

Frederic was on pins and needles all the evening; and, toward the close of the festivities, seeing Madame Dernange on a sofa, on which the colonel also had taken his seat, he stationed himself a few steps away.

He leaned against a mantel, with his back turned to them, and pretended to be engrossed by the dance; but he did not lose a word of what was said on the sofa. The colonel was amiable and gallant; he strove to make himself agreeable to Madame Dernange, and she put forth all her powers and played with him with her usual grace. She laughed so heartily, she was so pretty, so fascinating, when she desired to make a favorable impression! There was a constant exchange of compliments and clever retorts, during which poor Frederic was all on fire. If he had not held himself in check, he would have insulted the colonel and overwhelmed the faithless one with reproaches. Luckily, he retained his senses sufficiently to realize all the impropriety of such a scene, and all the ridicule it would bring upon him; for in love intrigues the party who complains, and who is betrayed, is always laughed at. It is said: the _vanquished_ pay the fine; we might vary this proverb slightly, and thus make it truer, except in England, where husbands are in the habit of exacting compensation in money when they are in the position which I understand by _vanquished_.

The colonel paid his court in military fashion--that is to say, he made much progress in a short time. Unluckily, this method is often successful. Unluckily for timid lovers, that is; or is not she the best who makes us happy most promptly? Frederic heard him ask Madame Dernange's permission to call to pay his respects. The respects of a colonel of hussars! Frederic was bathed in cold perspiration at the thought. The pretty woman made some resistance; she laughed and joked, and said that he must ask her husband first; then added, with a rippling laugh:

"But, no; no, you needn't! Monsieur Dernange will have no objection."

The colonel was urgent, and he received permission. Frederic was choking with rage; he walked hastily away, for he could stand it no longer. He went into a room which was empty for the moment, a large number of the guests having already taken their leave.

He threw himself into an easy-chair. The room was but dimly lighted by the flickering candles in gla.s.s globes; he could abandon himself without reserve to his feelings. He drew his handkerchief, he was choking; his eyes were filled with tears. A young man almost always pays with tears the fees of his apprenticeship in society. In two or three years, he will laugh at the misfortune that now drives him to despair. After being deceived, he will deceive in his turn; but he will never again be so foolish as to fix his fancy on a coquette, and it may be that some hearts that love him sincerely will be rejected by him, for the innocent often have to pay for the guilty. But, let us wait: it is possible that Frederic will always retain that emotional nature, that constancy in love, which now cause him to regret the loss of a heart that he never possessed.

The words _faithless_, _fickle_, _traitress_, issued from his mouth, followed by long sighs. For more than half an hour he had been buried in his reflections. The candles had gone out, the music had ceased. Several people pa.s.sed him without attracting his attention, nor was he, sitting in a dark corner, noticed by them. Some ladies came into the room to get their shawls, which they had left on a couch not far from Frederic. But a familiar voice awoke the echoes in his heart: it was the voice of Madame Dernange, talking with one of her friends. They seemed in excellent spirits.

"What sport I have had!" said the notary's wife. "That colonel is really very attractive!"

"But, my dear, did you see the wry face Frederic made?"

"Yes, indeed I did, and I was strongly tempted to laugh!"

"You drove him to despair."

"What a calamity! That young man is romantic and sentimental enough to give one the blues; he's an idiot!"

"Oh! he's a very pretty fellow, my dear; and when he has got rid of that schoolboy air, and has acquired the tone of fashionable gallantry, you'll see how popular he will be!"

"When I choose to amuse myself with him again, I have only to say a word, to glance at him, and he will be at my feet. But give me my shawl, which you have had in your hand an hour. The colonel is waiting to escort me to my carriage."

When the ladies had gone, Frederic rose. He found it difficult to believe his ears. Shame, jealousy, anger, filled his heart, where love had already ceased to fill any s.p.a.ce; for his self-esteem had been wounded, and wounded self-esteem soon triumphs over love.

In this frame of mind, Frederic retired to his apartment; he slammed the door as he entered, and thereby woke Dubourg with a start.

III

TRAVELLING PLANS.--MONSIEUR MeNARD.--EN ROUTE.

"I count four!" cried Dubourg, springing to his feet; while Frederic, surprised to find him there, stared at him a moment in silence, then abandoned himself unreservedly to the pleasure of pouring out his heart and telling his sorrows to his friend.

"Ah! my dear Dubourg! it must have been heaven that sent you."

"No; it was my landlord, who has turned me out of the house."

"At last I have found a heart which understands mine, which will appreciate my distress and pity my torments."

"Have you been betting on the wrong side, too?"

"The treacherous, fickle creature!"

"Luck is a woman, my friend; that tells the whole story."

"Yes, and a very heartless woman, too! If you knew what she dared to say about me!"

"What's that! has luck been talking about you?"

"I am an idiot! Indeed, she is right; I was an idiot to love her! But it's all over, yes, forever! She thinks that she can bring me to her feet, enslave me again, with a word and a smile! But, no, I will not be her dupe again; I know her now!"

Dubourg rubbed his eyes and looked at Frederic, who was pacing the floor with an air of desperation, sometimes stopping to beat his forehead, sometimes smiling bitterly.

"Who in the devil are you talking about, my dear fellow?"

"Why, Madame Dernange, that woman whose heart is as false as her face is pretty, that coquette whom I have adored for two months, and who, as I believed, loved me. But, my dear Dubourg, she was making a fool of me."

"And that surprises you? Ah! my poor Frederic, what a boy you still are!"

"She made me believe that she reciprocated my love; and this evening, a new-comer, a colonel, has stolen her heart from me, apparently without much difficulty. I was strongly tempted to insult the fellow and kill him."

"Would that have made your Madame Dernange less fickle?"

"No, of course not; that is what I said to myself."