The sacrifice was consummated amid the laughter of the two girls.
One person alone did not join in the merriment thus provoked, and that person was he whose room I was going to share for the night. It was evident to me that he loved Cornelie, and was jealous of me—absurd idea; but the first stage of jealousy is absurdity.
The operation was over; they led me to a mirror to see if I were satisfied with the change worked in my personal appearance. At the first glance I felt inclined to laugh myself; I was more than clipped—I was almost shorn.
My ridiculous appearance restored Félicién to good humor with Mademoiselle Cornelie; and, as the servant appeared to announce that the room was prepared, he asked me to follow him, and he would show the way.
The first things that I remarked on entering the room were a pair of fencing foils, and a couple of masks to protect the face. I thought these rather strange ornaments for the bed-chamber of an apprenticed carpenter.
“Do you know what those are for?” asked he with a braggart air.
“Yes,” replied I.
“Can you use them?”
“Not particularly well at present; but another month or two in the Salle d’Armes will improve me, I hope.”