interrupting Mistigris.
"I would rather have them in the salon; but perhaps I am indiscreet in
asking it," she replied, looking at Bridau coquettishly.
"Beauty, madame, is a
sovereign whom all
painters
worship; it has
unlimited claims upon them."
"They are both
charming," thought Madame Moreau. "Do you enjoy
driving? Shall I take you through the woods, after dinner, in my
carriage?"
"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Mistigris, in three ecstatic tones. "Why, Presles
will prove our terrestrial paradise."
"With an Eve, a fair, young,
fascinating woman," added Bridau.
Just as Madame Moreau was bridling, and soaring to the seventh heaven,
she was recalled like a kite by a
twitch at its line.
"Madame!" cried her maid-servant, bursting into the room.
"Rosalie," said her
mistress, "who allowed you to come here without
being sent for?"
Rosalie paid no heed to the
rebuke, but whispered in her
mistress's
ear:--
"The count is at the
chateau."
"Has he asked for me?" said the
steward's wife.
"No, madame; but he wants his trunk and the key of his
apartment."
"Then give them to him," she replied, making an
impatientgesture to
hide her real trouble.
"Mamma! here's Oscar Husson," said her youngest son, bringing in
Oscar, who turned as red as a poppy on
seeing the two artists in
evening dress.
"Oh! so you have come, my little Oscar," said Estelle,
stiffly. "I
hope you will now go and dress," she added, after looking at him
contemptuously from head to foot. "Your mother, I
presume, has not
accustomed you to dine in such clothes as those."
"Oh!" cried the cruel Mistigris, "a future diplomatist knows the
saying that 'two coats are better than none.'"
"How do you mean, a future diplomatist?" exclaimed Madame Moreau.
Poor Oscar had tears in his eyes as he looked in turn from Joseph to
Leon.
"Merely a joke made in travelling," replied Joseph, who wanted to save
Oscar's feelings out of pity.
"The boy just wanted to be funny like the rest of us, and he blagued,
that's all," said Mistigris.
"Madame," said Rosalie, returning to the door of the salon, "his
Excellency has ordered dinner for eight, and wants it served at six
o'clock. What are we to do?"
During Estelle's
conference with her head-woman the two artists and
Oscar looked at each other in
consternation; their glances were
expressive of terrible apprehension.
"His Excellency! who is he?" said Joseph Bridau.
"Why, Monsieur le Comte de Serizy, of course," replied little Moreau.
"Could it have been the count in the coucou?" said Leon de Lora.
"Oh!" exclaimed Oscar, "the Comte de Serizy always travels in his own
carriage with four horses."
"How did the Comte de Serizy get here?" said the
painter to Madame
Moreau, when she returned, much discomfited, to the salon.
"I am sure I do not know," she said. "I cannot explain to myself this
sudden
arrival; nor do I know what has brought him-- And Moreau not
here!"
"His Excellency wishes Monsieur Schinner to come over to the
chateau,"
said the
gardener, coming to the door of the salon. "And he begs
Monsieur Schinner to give him the pleasure to dine with him; also
Monsieur Mistigris."
"Done for!" cried the rapin, laughing. "He whom we took for a
bourgeois in the coucou was the count. You may well say: 'Sour are the
curses of perversity.'"
Oscar was very nearly changed to a
pillar of salt; for, at this
revelation, his
throat felt saltier than the sea.
"And you, who talked to him about his wife's lovers and his skin
diseases!" said Mistigris, turning on Oscar.
"What does he mean?" exclaimed the
steward's wife, gazing after the
two artists, who went away laughing at the expression of Oscar's face.
Oscar remained dumb, confounded, stupefied,
hearing nothing, though
Madame Moreau questioned him and shook him
violently by his arm, which
she caught and squeezed. She gained nothing, however, and was forced
to leave him in the salon without an answer, for Rosalie appeared
again, to ask for linen and silver, and to beg she would go herself
and see that the multiplied orders of the count were executed. All the