So each young man, as he cast a last complacent glance in his mirror, recalled all sorts of romantic episodes in which wealthy damsels had fallen in love at first sight with some stranger, whom they had finally married against the wishes of their relatives,—for all these worthy bachelors had but one thought in this instance, marriage, and they even carried their honesty so far as to love marriage for the sake of marriage itself, and the bride became little more than an accessory in their eyes.
Each bachelor had endeavoured to make the most of himself according to his character and appearance. The handsome ones had striven to make themselves still more handsome and irresistible.
Those of a less attractive or even homely exterior assumed a spirituelle or melancholy air.
In short, each and every one said to himself, like the people who allow themselves to be enticed into those lotteries that offer prizes of several millions:
"Of course it is absurd to suppose that I shall win one of these fabulous prizes. I have but one chance in nobody knows how many thousand, but somebody has got to win. Why may I not be the lucky one?"
As for the persons that composed the assemblage, they were very nearly the same who had attended the dance given by Madame de Senneterre several months before, and who had taken a more or less prominent part in the numerous conversations on the subject of Madame de Beaumesnil's approaching death.
Several of these persons also recollected the curiosity that had been expressed in regard to Mlle. de Beaumesnil, who was then in a foreign land, and whom no one had ever seen, so a majority of Madame Mirecourt's guests would consequently witness to-night the solution of the problem propounded several weeks before.
Was the richest heiress in France as beautiful as a star or as hideous as a monster? Was she glowing with health or a hopeless consumptive?
It was ten o'clock, and Madame de Mirecourt was becoming very uneasy. Madame de Senneterre and her son had not made their appearance; Mlle. de Beaumesnil might arrive at any moment, and it had been arranged that Ernestine should be chaperoned by Madame de la Rochaiguë or Madame de Senneterre the entire evening, and that Gerald should dance the first quadrille with the heiress.
Every minute the crowd increased. Among the newcomers, M. de Mornand, accompanied by M. de Ravil, advanced in the most disinterested air imaginable to pay his respects to Madame de Mirecourt, who greeted him very graciously, and innocently remarked, without the slightest suspicion how true her words were: