"You are very fortunate, Monsieur Robineau!--For my part, I would like to find--I don't know just how to express it, but it seems to me that there should be a secret sympathy acting at the same time on two hearts that are made for each other."

"Yes, I understand you; that is what happened to me with my first inclination, whom I met at the Bal du Colisee. We fell while waltzing, both at the same time. I instantly discovered a secret sympathy therein."

Edouard allowed a faint smile to escape him, and drew near to a quadrille in which some very pretty women were performing.

"What do you think of that little blonde, Monsieur Robineau?"

"Why, nothing extraordinary; a good complexion, and youth; but she doesn't turn her feet out enough."

"You are hard to suit! I think her very attractive; her eyes are lovely, her bearing full of grace. She does not seem to have made a careful study of dancing, but anyone can see that she enjoys it.--And what of the tall one, opposite?"

"She is not pretty; her nose is much too long, and there seems to be no end to her arms; her hair is badly arranged----"

"Well, I think that she has a very bright face, and it seems to me that, while she is not pretty, she must be attractive. I will wager that her conversation is very agreeable--And that stout brunette that's dancing now?"

"She is a perfect bundle, and she tears about like one possessed."

"But see how light she is, despite her stoutness! What vivacity gleams in her eyes!"

"I say, Monsieur Edouard, you claim to be weary of _bonnes fortunes_, and yet you find all women to your liking; they all attract you!"

"Although I am weary of ephemeral liaisons, I did not say that I proposed to love no more; on the contrary, I am at present in search of an opportunity to fall in love in earnest."

"Well, well! so am I, messieurs," cried Alfred, who had stopped beside his two friends and had overheard Edouard's last words. "I have a heart to place, and may the devil take me if I have known what to do with it for the last fortnight!--Here are plenty of good-looking women, however!"

"Faith! messieurs," said Robineau, throwing out his chest, "I protest that I contemplate all the ladies with a most indifferent eye. I am a philosopher, you see; besides, I have what I need, and it would be difficult for me to find anything better."

"Aha! Robineau, then you must show her to us. You must ask us to dine with her."

"Upon my word! do you mean to say that you think that she's a woman for mixed parties? a woman to be taken where there are men?"

"Are you trying to make us think that she's a d.u.c.h.ess?"

"Why--look you--that might be."

"Ha! ha!--What on earth have you got in your pockets, Robineau? Are you wearing false hips to please your Dulcinea?"

Robineau blushed and put his hands over his pockets as he replied:

"It's some papers that I forgot to take out of my coat."

"If you danced with such pockets as that, you must have produced a tremendous effect!--Ha! ha! it's worse than Mere Gigogne!--Are these ministerial papers, too?"

Robineau turned away in a pet and threw himself on a sofa, heedless of the fact that he was crushing his cakes; and there he remained until the end of the ball, when Alfred came to him and said:

"We are going up to my rooms, Robineau; we are going to finish the night at the table, with a few faithful friends. Will you join us?"

"Yes, to be sure."

"Then make up your mind to leave your couch, to which you seem to be glued like a pasha."

Robineau followed Alfred. Young De Marcey's apartment was above his father's, and contained everything that luxury, refinement and variety could suggest. It was a retreat that any pet.i.te-maitresse might have envied.

Four young men, as heedless and reckless as the master of the place, soon appeared in response to their friend's invitation, and with Edouard and Robineau completed the party.

"Messieurs," said Alfred, presenting Robineau to his young friends, "allow me to introduce an old school-mate, a very good fellow, albeit slightly irascible when you talk to him of his conquests or his employment. Do not pay any attention to the size of his pockets; he maintains that it makes him more graceful. He is a little out of temper now because he lost some money at ecarte; but we will make him tipsy and he will be a delightful companion."

All the young men laughed, and Robineau followed their example, crying:

"That devilish Alfred! always joking! But, as for making me tipsy, I defy you to do it, messieurs. I have a hard head, I tell you; I have never been known to get drunk."

"On my honor, Alfred, your quarters are delightful. Everything is so fresh and bright, and decorated with such taste! It is an enchanting spot," said one of the young men, as he walked about the apartment.

"Faith, messieurs, if you like it, so much the better. But I have nothing to do with it; my father looks after everything that concerns me, and he has lately had all the furnishings of my apartments replaced, saying that what I had was not handsome enough. I let him do as he pleases."

"n.o.body can deny, Alfred, that you have a most agreeable father!"

"Oh! as to that, messieurs, I do him full justice. He is so kind that I am sometimes tempted to reproach him for indulging me too much. If I incur debts, he pays them; if I want money, he gives it to me; if I express a fear that my follies displease him, he embraces me, saying: 'You are young, and you must enjoy yourself; be happy, my dear boy--that is all I desire.' And I give you my word, he is so kind that I often pause in the act of committing some extravagance; for I have no secrets from my father, and I should be terribly distressed if I did anything that grieved him. Yes, messieurs, his indulgence will keep me in the paths of prudence, whereas, if he had thwarted me, if he had been harsh toward me, I should have done a hundred times as many wild and foolish things."

"In short, each of you loves the other dearly," said Edouard; "and it seems to me that one should always be happy to have one's father for a friend."

"My father was very fond of me too," said Robineau; "however, he broke a cane over my back one day because I had lost my handkerchief. He was orderly to the last degree, was my father, but he loved me dearly all the same."

"To the table, messieurs, to the table, and let us see who can say the most foolish things! After an evening of dignified behavior, it is pleasant to take one's ease for a while."

They took their seats at the table, and attacked a fine fowl and a ham roasted in currant jelly. Those who had danced a great deal were hungry; the others were incited by their example, and Robineau forgot that he had stuffed himself with cakes, in order to do honor to the sugar-cured ham, which he considered delicious. Bordeaux and chambertin circulated freely; the conversation became more and more animated, and as they drank they laughed and jested; each had his anecdote to tell, each had some love-making adventure with which he was anxious to regale his friends; the subject of women is inexhaustible, and men are always glad to return to it, for there is no man to whom it does not recall pleasant memories.

"Messieurs," said a young man, who seemed to be rather inflammable, "there is one incontestable truth, and that is that if we wish to be loved by the women, we must not love anyone of them."

"Oh! upon my word!"

"I leave it to Alfred; am I not right?"

"Faith! I am inclined to think just the opposite; for I am rather fortunate with the fair s.e.x, and yet I love them all."

"Very good; you love them all, therefore you love none of them; which is just what I said."

"It would be a great pity, messieurs," said Edouard, "to think that a deeply rooted sentiment may not be reciprocated; and that as soon as we are really in love with a woman, she will cease to love us."

"When a man is in love, he loses all his advantages, and he is stupid enough to be carved."

"That is true," said Robineau, "he is terribly stupid."

"The woman we love doesn't think us stupid, when she returns our love."

"Monsieur Edouard is right," said Robineau, tossing off a gla.s.s of chambertin; "when she returns our love, why, that is another matter! it is altogether different!"

"But when she doesn't return it," said one of the young men, "then she makes sport of us and laughs at our sighs; she makes us look like downright jacka.s.ses, and we don't discover it."