They went in and handed their heavy outer garments to the footmen who
advanced to meet them. Several ladies were also there with their
husbands, freeing themselves from their furs. Murmurs of: "It is very
beautiful, very beautiful," could be heard. The immense entrance hall
was hung with tapestry, representing the adventures of Mars and Venus.
To the right and left were the two branches of a colossal double
staircase, which met on the first floor. The banisters were a marvel of
wrought-iron work, the dull old gilding of which glittered with discreet
luster beside the steps of pink marble. At the entrance to the
reception-rooms two little girls, one in a pink folly costume, and the
other in a blue one, offered a bouquet of flowers to each lady. This was
held to be charming.
The reception-rooms were already crowded. Most of the ladies were in
outdoor dress, showing that they came there as to any other exhibition.
Those who intended remaining for the ball were bare armed and bare
necked. Madame Walter, surrounded by her friends, was in the second room
acknowledging the greetings of the visitors. Many of these did not know
her, and walked about as though in a museum, without troubling
themselves about the masters of the house.
When she perceived Du Roy she grew livid, and made a movement as though
to advance towards him. Then she remained motionless, awaiting him. He
greeted her ceremoniously, while Madeleine overwhelmed her with
affection and compliments. Then George left his wife with her and lost
himself in the crowd, to listen to the spiteful things that assuredly
must be said.
Five reception-rooms opened one into the other, hung with costly stuffs,
Italian embroideries, or oriental rugs of varying shades and styles, and
bearing on their walls pictures by old masters. People stopped, above
all, to admire a small room in the Louis XVI style, a kind of boudoir,
lined with silk, with bouquets of roses on a pale blue ground. The
furniture, of gilt wood, upholstered in the same material, was admirably
finished.
George recognized some well-known people--the Duchess de Ferracine, the
Count and Countess de Ravenal, General Prince d'Andremont, the beautiful
Marchioness des Dunes, and all those folk who are seen at first
performances. He was suddenly seized by the arm, and a young and pleased
voice murmured in his ear: "Ah! here you are at last, you naughty
Pretty-boy. How is it one no longer sees you?"
It was Susan Walter, scanning him with her enamel-like eyes from beneath
the curly cloud of her fair hair. He was delighted to see her again, and
frankly pressed her hand. Then, excusing himself, he said: "I have not
been able to come. I have had so much to do during the past two months
that I have not been out at all."
She said, with her serious air: "That is wrong, very wrong. You have
caused us a great deal of pain, for we adore you, mamma and I. As to
myself, I cannot get on without you. When you are not here I am bored
to death. You see I tell you so plainly, so that you may no longer have
the right of disappearing like that. Give me your arm, I will show you
'Jesus Walking on the Waters' myself; it is right away at the end,
beyond the conservatory. Papa had it put there so that they should be
obliged to see everything before they could get to it. It is astonishing
how he is showing off this place."
They went on quietly among the crowd. People turned round to look at
this good-looking fellow and this charming little doll. A well-known
painter said: "What a pretty pair. They go capitally together."
George thought: "If I had been really clever, this is the girl I should
have married. It was possible. How is it I did not think of it? How did
I come to take that other one? What a piece of stupidity. We always act
too impetuously, and never reflect sufficiently."
And envy, bitter envy, sank drop by drop into his mind like a gall,
embittering all his pleasures, and rendering existence hateful.
Susan was saying: "Oh! do come often, Pretty-boy; we will go in for all
manner of things now, papa is so rich. We will amuse ourselves like
madcaps."
He answered, still following up his idea: "Oh! you will marry now. You
will marry some prince, a ruined one, and we shall scarcely see one
another."
She exclaimed, frankly: "Oh! no, not yet. I want someone who pleases me,
who pleases me a great deal, who pleases me altogether. I am rich enough
for two."
He smiled with a haughty and ironical smile, and began to point out to
her people that were passing, very noble folk who had sold their rusty
titles to the daughters of financiers like herself, and who now lived
with or away from their wives, but free, impudent, known, and respected.
He concluded with: "I will not give you six months before you are caught
with that same bait. You will be a marchioness, a duchess or a princess,
and will look down on me from a very great height, miss."
She grew indignant, tapped him on the arm with her fan, and vowed that
she would marry according to the dictates of her heart.