Volume I Part 40 (2/2)
”Monsieur is quite capable of it; but still a man sometimes wears one without knowing it.”
”Do you think so, mademoiselle? If that had happened to me, my wife would have told me; she had no secrets from me!”[I]
”Oh! that makes a difference!”
”Understand, mademoiselle--Chamoureau, not Chameau.”
”I will remember, monsieur.”
And the maid, laughing in the gentleman's face, because he seemed to her excessively foolish, was in the act of closing the door, when another person appeared and hastily opened it again; then, elbowing aside Chamoureau, who was still standing on the mat, he entered the reception-room with the air of a master, and said abruptly:
”Is Thelenie here? I want to speak to her.”
The agent raised his eyes to look at the person who had pushed him aside so unceremoniously. He scrutinized him with the greatest attention when he heard him ask for ”Thelenie” simply, and not Madame de Sainte-Suzanne. Such familiarity was most offensive to Chamoureau, and when he saw that the man who indulged in it was fas.h.i.+onably dressed, he was more incensed than ever.
We will not draw the portrait of the newcomer, as we have already seen him at the Opera, in the box of the lady whom he now asked to see. It was Monsieur Beauregard who had applied to the lady's maid, and she, suddenly become respectful, because he spoke to her in an arrogant tone, hastened to reply:
”Madame is not in, monsieur; she went out about an hour ago with her friend Mademoiselle Helose. I do not think that she will return to dinner.”
Beauregard walked about the reception-room, then looked the maid in the eyes as he asked:
”Is it true that your mistress has gone out?”
”Yes, monsieur, it's the truth. But if monsieur wishes to go into the salon and madame's bedroom, he will see that I have not lied to him.”
”No, it's all right; as she has gone out, I'll be off.”
”Will monsieur give me any message for madame?”
”No, what I have to say to her cannot be said by anybody else. I will see her another time.”
”If monsieur will tell me what day he will come, so that madame may wait for him----”
”It's not necessary. I do not know myself when I shall come again.”
And the gentleman with the yellow complexion, turning toward the door, was about to leave the room, when he saw the business agent, who had remained standing, like a milestone, on the mat, and was scrutinizing him with an expression of mingled amazement and curiosity.
”Who's that?” Beauregard asked the maid, pointing to Chamoureau. And she replied with a smile:
”It's a gentleman who came to see madame.”
Thereupon Beauregard examined more carefully the individual on the mat, and soon exclaimed:
”Ah! I recognize him; I know him now! He's the Spaniard of the Opera ball, who kept pulling up his long boots. Exactly! yes! that's just who it is!”
Chamoureau overheard all this; but uncertain how to behave before that person who had been eying him for several moments in a most impertinent way, he decided to leave the mat and beat a retreat. He had already gone downstairs, and was leaving the house, boiling over with wrath, when the gentleman whom he had left on the second floor, and who had descended the stairs behind him, appeared at his side.
Our widower had a very great desire to know who the man was who entered Madame de Sainte-Suzanne's apartment so unceremoniously, and asked for her by her Christian name simply. When he saw him so near, he ventured to bow. Beauregard returned his salutation with an air of mockery, saying:
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