Monfreville turned pale, his brow darkened, and he kept his eyes on the floor for a long while; not for some moments did he reply:

"There are women who never forgive inconstancy, but they are not ordinarily the ones who love you the best; for true love makes one indulgent. It forgives, provided that you return in all sincerity. I tell you, Cherubin, that the shrewdest man knows nothing about a woman's heart. There has been much discussion of the subject, and no two persons ever agreed. Tertullian declares that the devil is not so spiteful as woman, and Confucius says that a woman's soul is the masterwork of creation. Cato maintains that wisdom and virtue are incompatible with the female mind, and Tibullus that woman's love brings us back to virtue. How are we to form an opinion about it?--But I believe that at this moment I am too much like your tutor, who overwhelms you with his learning. I conclude, my young friend, by informing you that the best way to be happy is to form no attachment. Love all women! Your life will glide along amid pleasures and folly. But if you love only one, you must expect much sorrow in exchange for a little happiness."

"Love all women, you say! I ask nothing better! I fall in love with all I see--when they are pretty."

"But I believe that you have not yet formed any liaison? I have not heard that you have any mistress!"

"No--you see--it seems to me that I shall never dare to tell a woman that I love her. A man must be very bold to say that, do you know?"

"Ha! ha! this is the result of a sojourn of sixteen years with your nurse. But you must cast off this timidity, which will be much more injurious than advantageous to you, especially with the fair s.e.x. You are more than eighteen years old--you must make a start, show yourself in society. You must not serve your apprenticeship in love with grisettes or supernumeraries from the theatre. You will find something better than that. In the fashionable society to which I propose to introduce you, a thousand women will contend for your favor, and they will do you credit, at all events. Moreover, it is high time that you should know something besides the theatres, cafes and restaurants of Paris; the salons are where a man gets his training, and I will take you to those where refined manners are the rule. With your name you will be welcomed everywhere. This is the season for receptions; Madame Celival has resumed her a.s.semblies, which are very brilliant affairs; the best people in Paris go there. I will introduce you to her house."

Cherubin trembled at the idea of going into society; he was afraid of being awkward and clumsy, and of being unable to talk. But Monfreville encouraged him, promised to be his guide and to stay with him, and the young man consented to allow himself to be taken to Madame Celival's reception.

The day arrived too quickly for Cherubin, who, having never attended any such function, was greatly excited at the mere thought of finding himself in the midst of a large company, exposed to everybody's glances and remarks.

"What shall I say?"--That was always the result of Cherubin's reflections; and, pending Monfreville's arrival, he went to Monsieur Gerondif, to consult him as to what a young man may find to say when he makes his first appearance in society.

Monsieur Gerondif was learning some of La Fontaine's poetry by heart, intending to recite it to Mademoiselle Turlurette as his own. The tutor was not enamored of the housekeeper; he considered her over-developed for him, and he had views elsewhere; but Mademoiselle Turlurette's functions included the department of preserves, sweetmeats and liqueurs, and Monsieur Gerondif was very fond of all such dainties.

When he saw his pupil enter his room, the tutor was thunderstruck; it was the first time that Cherubin had paid him a visit since they had been in Paris. He imagined that he wished to resume his studies, and he said:

"Everything is ready, my n.o.ble pupil. I am always expecting you. I have prepared abstracts of history, mythology and geology for you. I am always at work in your service. At this moment, as you are taking lessons in _savate_, I am trying to find the origin of that form of exercise in Plutarch's lives of ill.u.s.trious men. I find the _cestus_, boxing and wrestling, but I haven't yet found _savate_."

"I thank you, Monsieur Gerondif," replied Cherubin, "but that is not what I have come about. This evening Monsieur de Monfreville is to take me into society; he declares that it is necessary for me to go there, that I shall acquire refined manners there; he is probably right, and I have promised to let him take me. But what do people say at a fashionable reception? How should one behave? Do you talk with people whom you don't know?--I thought that you could tell me that, you know so many things; for as yet I haven't been anywhere except to the theatre and concerts, and to cafes; and I must confess that I am terribly afraid of cutting a foolish figure in company."

"Foolish!" cried Gerondif; "that is impossible! You forget that you are my pupil; you are not equal to me in Horace and Virgil, but you know some pa.s.sages--you must repeat them when you are talking with men. With the ladies, it is different; employ those figures of speech, those metaphors, which embellish discourse; compare them to Venus, Diana, Juno, Hebe, and you will certainly win a surprising triumph. But, if you wish me to go with you, I will stand behind you and prompt you."

Cherubin did not consider it necessary to be attended in company by his tutor; he believed that Monfreville would keep his promise and would not leave him.

Monfreville called for his young friend at the hour appointed. He was dressed in the most perfect taste; his slender and shapely figure was encased in an exquisitely fitting coat, which he wore with much grace.

His youthful bearing, his beautiful dark hair and his still charming face made him seem barely thirty years old, although he was near forty.

Cherubin, who was dressed in the latest style, still retained a trace of the awkwardness characteristic of village youths; but as he was well-built and had a most attractive face, the awkwardness of his carriage sometimes resembled the innocent coquetry of a schoolboy.

They entered the carriage, and Monfreville said:

"I am taking you into fashionable society, but, in order to dispel any feeling of shyness, that may injure your prospects, say to yourself first of all that you are of as good family as any of the people you will see there; say to yourself in the second place, that, thanks to your fortune and your rank, you need no support. When a person can say that to himself, my dear Cherubin, he should be perfectly self-possessed in society; indeed, some people are too much so. In default of the advantages which you have, and which everybody cannot have, a philosopher would say: 'Why should I allow myself to be awed by this man's t.i.tle, or by that man's fortune? Are they not men like myself, after all? Imagine all these vain, proud people in the costume of our first parents in the Garden of Eden; strip them of these decorations, these jewels, these costly clothes, in which their whole merit often consists,--will they be so imposing to me then? No, indeed; it is probable that they will make me laugh, and that is all.'--My dear fellow, a few such reflections are enough to put one entirely at his ease in the most exalted company."

"You encourage me," said Cherubin; "I shall talk Latin with the men, and with the ladies I shall talk about Venus, Diana and Phbe. Monsieur Gerondif advised that."

"If you want to make people laugh at you, that would be the best of all ways. I suspected that your tutor was a fool, now I am sure of it."

"Mon Dieu! what shall I say then, if anyone speaks to me?"

"Reply to what they say."

"But suppose I don't know what to reply--suppose I can't think of anything to say?"

"Keep silent then. A person is never stupid in society when he knows how to keep silent; indeed there are people who owe their reputation for wit to their silence."

"But suppose I see any lovely women, who take my fancy?"

"Tell them so with your eyes; they will understand you perfectly."

"But if I want to make their acquaintance, to pay court to them?"

"Say whatever comes into your head; but above all things don't try to be bright, for you would make yourself a terrible bore."

"But suppose nothing comes into my head?"

"You still have the resource of silence and eloquent glances; there are many people who stop there."

"But this lady to whose house you are taking me?"

"True, I must tell you something about her. Madame Celival must be about thirty-six, but she is very good-looking; she is an alluring brunette; her eyes are most expressive, she has a lovely figure and graceful outlines; there is something fascinating, something voluptuous in her whole aspect, which seduces all the men. Madame Celival is a coquette, too, and is not supposed to be too cruel to those who sigh for her; but that is whispered only. She is her own mistress, however; she is the widow of a general, yes, a real general, who actually lived and left her a handsome fortune and no children. You may judge that the lovely widow does not lack adorers.--But, attention; here we are."

PART III

XVIII

FIRST APPEARANCE IN SOCIETY

In an elegant, brilliantly-lighted apartment on Rue Saint-Lazare, a fashionable company, already quite numerous, was engaged in conversation that was rarely of a private nature, but often piquant and satirical. At intervals, some witty person interjected a word or two, while the undaunted chatterers, who never had anything clever to say, persisted in holding the floor.

Madame Celival was just as Monfreville had described her: lovely, amiable, coquettish, glancing at a mirror from time to time, to be sure of the effect of her gown; paying due attention to all her guests, with the talent of a woman accustomed to society, but reserving softer and tenderer smiles for the men who were paying court to her.

Near the couch on which the mistress of the house had just taken her seat sat a young and pretty blonde, dressed in muslin and crepe, and entangled in veils and scarfs that almost concealed her charming features; it was all pink and white and formed so becoming a frame for this lady that at a distance she resembled one of those engravings of a woman's face surrounded by clouds.

Madame Celival thanked the pretty blonde for consenting to come to her reception, despite the torture caused by her nerves. A few steps away was a tall gentleman wearing a decoration; he was very thin and very ugly; his chin was surrounded by a spa.r.s.e necklace of jet-black beard; moustaches no less glossy, and carefully waxed and twisted at the ends, made his face resemble a cat's in some measure. He was addressed as colonel.

A young man whose hair was parted and curled with as much care as a woman could possibly take, and whose regular, but somewhat harsh features recalled the faces which our historical painters love to give to the heroes of ancient Rome, was standing by the fireplace; he rarely removed his eyes from the ladies who were talking on the divan, but he seemed not to be observing either of them more particularly than the other.

Near the piano, for there was necessarily a piano in the salon, several young persons were a.s.sembled, turning over the leaves of alb.u.ms, or looking at the music; they were not all good-looking, but they were all dressed with so much taste, there was so much reserved grace in their manners, that even those who were not pretty were not without charm.

In another part of the room the mammas were chatting together; some were dressed with a coquetry which seemed to indicate a purpose to outshine their daughters; others displayed a simple but tasteful elegance, suited to their age, which made them the more attractive when they were still young enough to attract.

Some young men were fluttering about the younger ladies, while others contented themselves with standing very straight and stiff in order to call attention to the finished elegance of their clothes and the good taste with which their hair was arranged. Some had a.s.sumed a smile which remained as if stereotyped on their faces throughout the evening. Then there were men of uncertain age standing and talking in the middle of the room; among them a gentleman, whose gray hair, very scanty over his forehead, curled luxuriantly about his temples. He possessed a distinguished and intellectual face, but there was an over-curious, over-inquisitive expression in his little eyes, which gleamed with the vivacity of youth, although his face indicated that he was in the neighborhood of sixty. This gentleman talked incessantly, with much energy, and while carrying on a conversation in one part of the salon, managed to hear what was said elsewhere, and thus took part in most of the other conversations, sustaining his share of the discussion on several different subjects at the same time, with the same facility with which Caesar dictated several letters at once in different languages.

Another salon, smaller than that where the ladies were sitting, and reached by pa.s.sing through a lovely little room furnished with the most delicious luxury, was set aside for those of the guests who wished to play cards. Whist and bouillotte tables were prepared, but there were as yet no players.

Monsieur de Monfreville and the Marquis Cherubin de Grandvilain were announced. All eyes were turned toward the door. The names Cherubin and Grandvilain formed such a strange contrast that everybody was curious to see the person who bore them.