“In the chest.”
“And the silver plate?”
“In the great oak closet.”
The marquise remained silent for a few moments, and then said calmly, “Let my goldsmith be sent for.”
Her attendants quitted the room to execute the order. The marquise, however, had entered her own room, and was inspecting her casket of jewels with the greatest attention. Never, until now, had she bestowed such close attention upon riches in which women take so much pride; never, until now, had she looked at her jewels except for the purpose of making a selection, according to their settings or their colors. On this occasion, however, she admired the size of the rubies and the brilliancy of the diamonds; she grieved over every blemish and every defect; she thought the gold light, and the stones wretched. The goldsmith, as he entered, found her thus occupied. “M. Faucheux,” she said, “I believe you supplied me with my gold service?”
“I did, your ladyship.”
“I do not now remember the amount of the account.”
“Of the new service, madame, or of that which M. de Belliere presented to you on your marriage? for I have furnished both.”
“First of all, the new one.”
“The covers, the goblets, and the dishes, with their covers, the eau-epergne, the ice-pails, the dishes for the preserves, and the tea and coffee urns, cost your ladyship sixty thousand francs.”