The young noble held out his hand with the bright and joyous grace which accompanied all his movements, and expressed in cordial words his delight to make M. Lemercier’s acquaintance. Bold and assured as Frederic was in his own circles, he was more discomposed than set at ease by the gracious accost of a lion, whom he felt at once to be of a breed superior to his own. He muttered some confused phrases, in which ravi and flatte were alone audible, and evanished.
“I know M. Lemercier by sight very well,” said Enguerrand, seating himself. “One sees him very often in the Bois; and I have met him in the Coulisses and the Bal Mabille. I think, too, that he plays at the Bourse, and is lie with M. Duplessis, who bids fair to rival Louvier one of these days. Is Duplessis also one of your dearest friends?”
“No, indeed. I once met him, and was not prepossessed in his favour.”
“Nevertheless, he is a man much to be admired and respected.”
“Why so?”
“Because he understands so well the art of making what we all covet,—money. I will introduce you to him.”
“I have been already introduced.”
“Then I will re-introduce you. He is much courted in a society which I have recently been permitted by my father to frequent,—the society, of the Imperial Court.”
“You frequent that society, and the Count permits it?”
“Yes; better the Imperialists than the Republicans; and my father begins to own that truth, though he is too old or too indolent to act on it.”