"But dinner is to be at eight--she has plenty of time; it is not
half-past seven."
"Oh!" exclaimed Bijou regretfully. "If only I had known, I should not
have hurried so much. I was so afraid of being late."
"I'm the one to be glad that you hurried so much. I shall have you to
talk to for a minute"--
"For a good half-hour at least," she said, laughing; "no one is ever
in advance here--oh, never, not even the guests any more than the
people of the house."
"Ah, about the guests, tell me with whom I am going to dine. Your
grandmamma said, 'You will dine with some friends of yours.' Now, as
to friends, I cannot have many here now, considering that for the
last twelve years I have not been in this part of the world. There
have probably been many changes since then."
"Not so many as all that; let's see, now! you will dine with the
Tourvilles."
"The Tourvilles? they are not dead yet?"
"Those with whom you are going to dine are living. They had some
parents who are dead."
"Ah! that's it, is it! then young Tourville is married?"
"Yes, two years ago!"
"He was a disagreeable fellow! Has he made a good marriage?"
"That depends! he married a young lady on the Stock Exchange."
"What do you mean? a young lady on the Stock Exchange?"
"Yes, her father is something there, I believe; he is very, very
rich."
"Is it Chaillot, the banker?"
"Perhaps so, I never asked about them--they have restored Tourville,
it is superb now; and they are always entertaining."
"Is Madame de Tourville pretty?"
"You will see her; she is very pleasant, and they say she is very
intelligent; for my part, I have not discovered that." And then, as
M. de Clagny smiled, she added quickly: "Because I only know her very
slightly."
"Well, and after the Tourvilles, who next?"
"M. de Bernes."
"Young Hubert, the dragoon?"
"He himself."
"He is the son of good friends of mine; a downright nice fellow, don't
you think so?"
"Don't I think what?"
"That Hubert de Bernes is nice?"
"Oh! I know him so slightly; he has always seemed to me--how shall I
express it?--insipid, yes, insipid."
"Because you intimidate him, probably? I can quite understand that,
too!"
"I intimidate _you_, perhaps?" she said, laughing.
"Very much so!" he answered, very seriously.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, in astonishment, "how is that possible?"
"It is very possible, and it is true! There's nothing astonishing
about it then, that if you intimidate an old man like me, you should
intimidate poor little Hubert."
"Little Hubert? he is six feet!"
"Yes, and he is twenty-six years old, but to me he is always little
Hubert. Well, anyhow, admit at least that he is handsome?"
"I don't know!"
"Are you going to tell me that you have not looked at him?"
"I have looked at him; but as regards M. de Bernes I am a very bad
judge."
"Why so?"
"Because I detest young men!"
"At the age of twenty-six they are not so young as all that!"
"That may be so! but, all the same, at that age they do not exist as
far as I am concerned."
"Well, well! and at what age do they begin to exist as far as you are
concerned?"
She laughed.
"Very late in life!" she said, and then suddenly changing her tone,
she continued: "I am glad you know M. de Bernes, because, at any rate,
you will not be bored to death now this evening."
"Ah! it appears, then, that I am not to count on the other guests for
entertainment?"
"Oh, no! the others--well, first of all there are the La Balues."
"Good heavens, they are alarming! Why, their children must be
beginning to grow up?"
"They have even finished growing up! Louis is twenty-three, and Gisele
twenty-two."
"What are they like?"
"The one sets up for being _blase_---he is never either hungry,
thirsty, or sleepy; he does not care for anything; everything bores
him. And it is not true, you know! he never misses a dance, and his
sister says that he gets up in the night to eat on the sly. Then, too,
he writes ridiculous poetry, paints pictures as absurd as his poetry,
and goes in for music--such music!"
"And the daughter?"
"She is as masculine as her brother is effeminate; she goes shooting
and hunting, and her dream is to go in for deer-stalking, and to marry
an officer."
"She is probably thinking of Hubert?"
"What Hubert?"
"Young Bernes!"
"Ah! But I don't fancy so! At all events, he is not thinking about
her--"
"Because he is too much taken up with you, like all the others; is not
that so?"
"Not at all!"