"I do not pretend to rival with her; but how late she is. Are you sure she received the coupon you sent her two days ago?"
"Yes, for I gave it to Girard himself; but to keep up her character as the 'observed of all observers,' Madame Girard will not come until after every one else, in order to produce an effect."
"Charles, you are slanderous."
"Because Madame Girard is so ridiculous, and spoils a really pretty face by the most absurd pretensions. She has but one thought, that of imitating, or rather parodying with silly minuteness, the costume of Madame de Luceval, because she is the most fashionable woman in Paris."
"Yes, you have before spoken to me of this peculiarity of Madame Girard. I should very much like to see Madame de Luceval—the Marquise de Luceval, I think. They say she is a very charming woman."
"Very charming, very original; dressing as no other woman but herself could venture to dress; and yet that little fool Madame Girard copies her to her very shoe-tie, under the pretext of being very much like her."
"And is she?"
"Yes," replied De Brévannes, "as a goose resembles a swan."
At this moment the door of the box was opened, and Madame Girard came in, followed by M. Girard, a rich manufacturer, carrying her fan and smelling-bottle; he had, besides, as a cuirass between his coat and greatcoat, a small chancelière of morocco, lined with ermine, for Madame Girard always had cold feet, she said, which was not true; but she had seen one of the Patagonian and powdered footmen of the Marquise de Luceval follow her with such a foot-warmer in his hands; and in the absence of a Patagonian and powdered lacquey, poor Girard carried the affair for his wife.
Madame Girard was a little woman, brunette, high-coloured, very well made, and would have been pretty but for her intolerable affectation. Poor Bertha could not conceal her surprise at Madame Girard's singular head-dress.