"Monsieur de Grandvilain!" said one; "Gad! how ugly he must be! He must be an elderly man."

"But the footman said Cherubin too; that's a very pretty name."

"They can't belong to the same man."

"Probably there's a father and a son."

While the guests indulged in these reflections, Madame Celival said to those who were nearest her, but speaking loud enough to be overheard by everybody:

"Monsieur de Monfreville did ask my permission to introduce a young man who has never been out at all; and I granted it the more willingly because this young man, who is the last of a n.o.ble family, deserves, so it is said, all the interest that Monsieur de Monfreville takes in him."

"Ah! very well done!" murmured the gray-haired gentleman; "a little announcement preceding the introduction."

At that moment Cherubin entered the salon with Monfreville. Despite all that his mentor had said to him, he was far from self-possessed, and the deep flush that covered his cheeks sufficiently betrayed his embarra.s.sment. But his eyes were so lovely and soft, his features so refined, his face so interesting, that a flattering murmur greeted his entrance into the salon, and everyone felt prepossessed in his favor at once. The young men who were standing stiffly erect to display their fine points were the only ones who did not seem to share the general feeling.

"He has a very awkward manner," said one.

"He carries himself badly," said another.

"He looks like a woman in man's clothes," murmured a young dandy, bristling with beard, moustache and side-whiskers.

And Monsieur Trichet, the gray-haired gentleman, smiled maliciously and said:

"Cherubin! a most appropriate name. He is Comte Almaviva's little page to the life! He still lacks the gallantry and self-a.s.surance of his namesake; but those will soon come. The ladies will ask nothing better than to train him."

Madame Celival greeted the young man with a charming smile when Monfreville presented him. She made several of those complimentary remarks which captivate instantly the person to whom they are addressed.

Cherubin tried to reply to her compliments, but he went astray and tangled himself up in a sentence which he was unable to finish. Luckily Monfreville was at hand and interposed to relieve his embarra.s.sment, and Madame Celival was too well-bred not to do her best to put him at his ease. So that, after a few moments, Cherubin began to venture to look about him.

"What a lot of pretty women there are here!" he whispered to his sponsor. "I say, my friend, do you mean to say that one can love them all?"

"You are perfectly at liberty to love them all, but I cannot promise that they will all love you."

"The mistress of the house is very beautiful; she has eyes that--I don't dare to say it."

"Say on."

"That dazzle one, intoxicate one--excuse me, but I can't think of the right word."

"Intoxicate isn't at all bad; in fact, you have unwittingly hit upon the most apt expression; for if wine deprives us of our reason, a pretty woman's eyes produce precisely the same effect. I am tempted to tell Madame Celival what you just said about her eyes; she will be flattered by it, I'll wager."

"Oh! my dear fellow, don't do that--I shouldn't dare to look at her again. But the lady opposite is very pretty too! That blonde almost hidden by pink and white muslin."

"That is Madame la Comtesse Emma de Valdieri; she is a fascinating creature, in very truth; she has something of the sylph about her, something of a daughter of the air. She is perfectly proportioned: small feet, small hands, small mouth, small ears; only her eyes are large.

She is the perfect type of tiny women. But she is exceedingly nervous and flighty, and, above all, capricious; to-day she will greet you with a tender glance, to-morrow she will act as if she did not know you; adulation has spoiled her. Comtesse Emma is French, but her husband is a Corsican. He is that stout gentleman with whiskers, who is singing at the piano. He has a superb ba.s.s voice, so that he is always anxious to sing; and, although he's a Corsican, he seems to be very little disturbed by the homage paid to his wife."

Monsieur Trichet, who was at some distance from Monfreville, succeeded none the less in overhearing what he said to Cherubin; and he approached the two friends, saying in a sarcastic tone:

"True, true. Valdieri, the handsome singer, is not at all jealous; but it isn't safe to trust him! With these Corsicans, there is always the vendetta to guard against. Is your health good, Monsieur de Monfreville?"

"Very good, monsieur, I thank you."

"It is some time since you have shown yourself in society."

"I have been obliged to pay a long visit to my estate near Fontainebleau."

"Oh, yes!--So you are introducing monsieur in society? He could not find a better guide."

Cherubin bowed and attempted to say a few words in reply; but after a vain effort, he deemed it more prudent to hold his peace. Monsieur Trichet was about to continue the conversation, when he saw, at the other end of the room, three gentlemen talking with great earnestness; he instantly ran toward them, crying:

"That isn't so--you're wrong! I know the story better than you do, and I'll tell it to you."

Monfreville smiled at Cherubin and said:

"I need not tell you that that gentleman, whose name is Trichet, is the most inquisitive and loquacious mortal whom it is possible to meet. He can't see two people talking together without joining their conversation, which is not always agreeable. However, as Monsieur Trichet is a very wealthy old bachelor, who gives very handsome fetes, and as, aside from his curiosity, he doesn't lack wit and tells a good story, he is made welcome everywhere, in salons and at the theatres."

Cherubin was still engaged in looking about at the a.s.sembled company, when the door opened and the footman announced:

"Monsieur, Madame and Mademoiselle de Noirmont."

A lady above middle height, but of dignified and refined bearing, entered first, with a girl of some fourteen or fifteen years. The lady, whose dress, although rich, was almost severe in its simplicity, seemed to be rather more than thirty years of age; her features were beautiful, but grave; her large dark eyes, surmounted by heavy eyebrows, wore a vague and thoughtful expression which might lead one to think that her thoughts were often busy with something different from what she was saying; her lips, somewhat too tightly closed, hardly ever parted in a smile. That cold and haughty face was framed by beautiful tresses of black hair, which fell very low.

The young lady had the winning charm of her age; although she was not very pretty, her features attracted one by their fascinating expression of playfulness and mischief, which was often moderated by her mother's stern glances.

Monsieur de Noirmont, who came after them, was a man of fifty; he was very tall and stooped a little; his temples were shadowed by a few dark hairs, but the top of his head was entirely bald. His appearance was stern, supercilious and far from attractive; his regular features had probably been handsome, but his steely glance, his sharp voice and his shortness of speech inspired neither affection nor confidence.

The arrival of these three persons seemed to cause Monfreville profound emotion; his brow became wrinkled, his eyebrows drew together, and a veil of melancholy covered his eyes. But in a moment, surmounting his sensations, he succeeded in resuming the amiable and unruffled air which he wore on his arrival; indeed one would have said that he made it a point to seem more cheerful than before.

Monsieur Trichet, who had returned to Cherubin's side, did not fail to comment on the new arrivals:

"That's the Noirmont family; they have left their estate in Normandie, and they live in Paris now. They must have found it very dull in the country. They are not a very hilarious family. That De Noirmont is stiff and sour and overbearing! Just because he was once in the magistracy, you would think that he was always sitting in judgment on you. However, he's a man of the strictest probity; he deserves his reputation, but he's not an agreeable companion. As for his wife, she is a worthy mate to her husband--she talks very little and never smiles. I don't know whether she has any wit, but at all events she never compromises it. As for her virtue--oh! that is intact, as far beyond reproach as her husband's probity. And yet Madame de Noirmont, who is very handsome still, although she may be thirty-three or thirty-four years old--yes, she must be quite that--must have been an enchanting creature at eighteen, a.s.suming that she deigned to smile occasionally then. Their daughter, young Ernestine, is a mere child still. She is a nice little thing, merry and playful--which proves that she takes after neither father nor mother. But that is often seen.--Stay, colonel, I knew the person you are talking about, and I will explain the matter under discussion."

At that, Monsieur Trichet joined the tall gentleman with the waxed moustache, who was talking with two ladies; and Cherubin, turning his head, saw that Monfreville was no longer by his side.

Finding himself alone, in the midst of that numerous a.s.semblage, the young man felt sorely perturbed and lost the a.s.surance which he derived from his friend's neighborhood. As he preferred not to stand there, awkward and embarra.s.sed, by the fireplace, where he was exposed to every eye, he succeeded in extricating himself from the circle by slipping behind an easy-chair, and thence made his way to a window recess, where he was prevented from going farther by several persons who were seated there. He tried to retrace his steps, but Madame de Noirmont and her daughter had seated themselves in front of him and closed the way by which he had come; so that he was blockaded in a very confined s.p.a.ce, which he could not leave except by compelling the ladies in front of him to rise. As he was incapable of such an audacious act, he decided to remain in the corner where he was, until it should please chance, or Monfreville, to release him from his prison.

The ladies who were seated in front of the recess in which Cherubin stood had no suspicion that there was anybody behind them. The conversation continued in the salon; the guests walked hither and thither, laughing and chatting. Cherubin alone could not stir, and he was at a loss what to do in his little corner. Several times Madame Celival pa.s.sed the people who were blockading him, but she did not see him. He congratulated himself that she did not, for he would not have known what reply to make, if she had asked him what he was doing there.

Monfreville too had reappeared in the salon, but he did not see the suppliant glances which his young friend cast at him, and, instead of approaching him, he seemed to avoid that part of the room in which Madame de Noirmont had seated herself.

Nearly an hour pa.s.sed thus. Poor Cherubin was terribly fatigued by standing so long, and terribly bored in his little nook. He could hear what Madame de Noirmont said to her daughter; but that lady did not enter into any sustained conversation; she simply replied in few words to Ernestine's questions.

"Mamma," said the latter, after a young lady had sung a ballad, "don't you want me to sing?"

"No, my child, you are too young to put yourself forward; besides, unless your father insists upon it, you will never sing in company."

"Why not, mamma?"

"Because I prefer in a young lady the modesty which keeps itself concealed, to the vanity which makes itself conspicuous."