But it was above all Mme. de Thaller who excited Mme. Favoral's apprehensions.
Dressed with a magnificence of at least questionable taste, very much decolletee, wearing large diamonds at her ears, and rings on all her fingers, the young baroness was insolently handsome, of a beauty sensuous even to coarseness. With hair of a bluish black, twisted over the neck in heavy ringlets, she had skin of a pearly whiteness, lips redder than blood, and great eyes that threw flames from beneath their long, curved lashes. It was the poetry of flesh; and one could not help admiring. Did she speak, however, or make a gesture, all admiration vanished. The voice was vulgar, the motion common. Did M. Jouras venture upon a double-entendre, she would throw herself back upon her chair to laugh, stretching her neck, and thrusting her throat forward.
Wholly absorbed in the care of his guests, M. Favoral remarked nothing. He only thought of loading the plates, and filling the glasses, complaining that they ate and drank nothing, asking anxiously if the cooking was not good, if the wines were bad, and almost driving the waiter out of his wits with questions and suggestions.
It is a fact, that neither M. de Thaller nor M. Jottras had much appetite. But M. Saint Pavin officiated for all; and the sole task of keeping up with him caused M. Favoral to become visibly animated.
His cheeks were much flushed, when, having passed the champagne all around, he raised his froth-tipped glass, exclaiming:
"I drink to the success of the business."
"To the success of the business," echoed the others, touching his glass.
And a few moments later they passed into the parlor to take coffee.
This toast had caused Mme. Favoral no little uneasiness. But she found it impossible to ask a single question; Mme. de Thaller dragging her almost by force to a seat by her side on the sofa, pretending that two women always have secrets to exchange, even when they see each other for the first time.
The young baroness was fully an fait in matters of bonnets and dresses; and it was with giddy volubility that she asked Mme.
Favoral the names of her milliner and her dressmaker, and to what jeweler she intrusted her diamonds to be reset.
This looked so much like a joke, that the poor housekeeper of the Rue St. Gilles could not help smiling whilst answering that she had no dressmaker, and that, having no diamonds, she had no possible use for the services of a jeweler.
The other declared she could not get over it. No diamonds! That was a misfortune exceeding all. And quick she seized the opportunity charitably to enumerate the parures in her jewel-case, and laces in her drawers, and the dresses in her wardrobes, In the first place, it would have been impossible for her, she swore, to live with a husband either miserly or poor. Hers had just presented her with a lovely coupe, lined with yellow satin, a perfect bijon. And she made good use of it too; for she loved to go about. She spent her days shopping, or riding in the Bois. Every evening she had the choice of the theatre or a ball, often both. The genre theatres were those she preferred. To be sure, the opera and the Italians were more stylish; but she could not help gaping there.
Then she wished to kiss the children; and Gilberte and Maxence had to be brought in. She adored children, she vowed: it was her weakness, her passion. She had herself a little girl, eighteen months old, called Cesarine, to whom she was devoted; and certainly she would have brought her, had she not feared she would have been in the way.
All this verbiage sounded like a confused murmur to Mme. Favoral's ears. "Yes, no," she answered, hardly knowing to what she did answer.
Her head heavy with a vague apprehension, it required her utmost attention to observe her husband and his guests.
Standing by the mantel-piece, smoking their cigars, they conversed with considerable animation, but not loud enough to enable her to hear all they said. It was only when M. Saint Pavin spoke that she understood that they were still discussing the "business;" for he spoke of articles to publish, stocks to sell, dividends to distribute, sure profits to reap.
They all, at any rate, seemed to agree perfectly; and at a certain moment she saw her husband and M. de Thaller strike each other's hand, as people do who exchange a pledge.
Eleven o'clock struck.
M. Favoral was insisting to make his guests accept a cup of tea or a glass of punch; but M. de Thaller declared that he had some work to do, and that, his carriage having come, he must go.
And go he did, taking with him the baroness, followed by M. Saint Pavin and M. Jottras. And when, the door having closed upon them, M. Favoral found himself alone with his wife, "Well," he exclaimed, swelling with gratified vanity, "what do you think of our friends?"
"They surprised me," she answered.
He fairly jumped at that word.
"I should like to know why?"
Then, timidly, and with infinite precautions, she commenced explaining that M. de Thaller's face inspired her with no confidence; that M. Jottras had seemed to her a very impudent personage; that M.
Saint Pavin appeared low and vulgar; and that, finally, the young baroness had given her of herself the most singular idea.
M. Favoral refused to hear more.
"It's because you have never seen people of the best society," he exclaimed.
"Excuse me. Formerly, during my mother's life -"
"Eh! Your mother never received but shop-keepers."
The poor woman dropped her head.
"I beg of you, Vincent," she insisted, "before doing any thing with these new friends, think well, consult -"
He burst out laughing.
"Are you not afraid that they will cheat me?" he said, - "people ten times as rich as we are. Here, don't let us speak of it any more, and let us go to bed. You'll see what this dinner will bring us, and whether I ever have reason to regret the money we have spent."