"Oh, madame, how can you be so cruel? You should rather ask, 'Is it not like returning to rest in paradise after having been driven out into the wilderness.' I really feel as if I were the prodigal son returning home to partake of the fatted calf. You can't imagine what a relief it is for me to return to our beautiful Paris after my voluntary exile." So saying the doctor was ushered into a large saloon with folding doors, which, when opened, converted the two rooms into one.
The walls were covered with a Japanese paper ornamented with patterns in old gold on a red background; but so wonderfully were the designs made, that they heightened rather than lessened the effect of the charming old oil paintings by Hobbema, Jan Van der Heyden, Boucher, Claude and Meisonnier. The furniture was of stained oak, rather heavy but beautifully carved, and almost as black as ebony with age. In one corner was a large "grandfather's" clock, by Vulliamy, and ornamented with Louis Quinze panels, whilst on the marble mantle-piece was a Louis XVI. timepiece mounted on a wonderful creation of Sèvres porcelain, and placed between two exquisite china groups with medallions painted by Watteau.
Passing through the folding doors one entered a smaller but much brighter room, with a white ceiling ornamented with groups of mythological figures. At the further end a door opened into a conservatory filled with curious insectivorous plants, choice orchids and other rare exotics, many of which exhaled a deliciously sensuous perfume. Passing through the hothouse, one stepped immediately on to the lawn of the back garden.
As Doctor Riche entered the smaller room, Madame Villebois proceeded to introduce him to the company. The moment he glanced round the assembled guests, his eyes were riveted on a particularly sweet, dark-haired girl, and a tall remarkable looking man, who were chatting together on one of the settees in the corner of the room.
"This is Mademoiselle Payot, and Monsieur le Professor Delapine whom you have doubtless heard of," said the hostess, smiling.
Although Riche had heard so much of the professor, he had never had the opportunity of seeing him in private life before. What attracted him was the piercing brilliancy of his eyes. They were of a steel blue colour, and seemed to bore one through like an intense auger, making the doctor feel conscious that Delapine was peering into his very soul, and was reading his most secret thoughts. They turned perpetually here and there so that nothing could escape his penetrating glance.
The professor had a habit of nervously playing with his fingers which spread over every object they touched like the tentacles of a medusa, as if they were eager to come into contact with the ultimate particles of matter.
Delapine stood nearly six feet high, with very dark glossy hair falling almost to his shoulders, and wearing a moustache with twisted ends and a short pointed beard. The professor was invariably attired in a black frock coat and cravat, the sombreness being relieved by the red ribbon of the Legion of Honour. He was a man who would command attention anywhere. Active, alert, with an imposing presence, he stood out from the crowd as one born to command. The pale, almost wax-like face, the lofty brow, the firm compressed lips ever and anon breaking out into a smile, all contributed to form a personality which would be both respected and loved. Delapine was slow and measured in speech, and possessed a rich voice of peculiar charm and flexibility which impressed and delighted his audience. He had that power of modulating it to suit the nature of the theme, by which the members of his class were enabled to select without effort the essentials from the non-essentials of his discourse. At times he would pause, and turning his head half round would scan the listeners with his piercing eyes, as if to judge the effect of his words. But ever and anon his overpowering personality would convey the effect of one inspired, and he could elevate the simplest subjects to heights undreamt of, and stamp an indelible impression of it on their imagination. A subject, which in the hands of most men would sound tame and uninteresting, would, when dealt with by him, become illuminated and clothed by the most apt illustrations and exalted thought. No wonder that his students became permeated with the enthusiasm of the master. He seemed to Riche to be the ideal of an experimental philosopher and physicist.
But here the doctor was roused from his reflections by the cheery voice of Villebois.
"Hullo, Riche, mon vieux, vous voilà enfin! Come along and let me introduce you to Monsieur Marcel, our poet, philosopher and friend; and also to Maitre Duval, our youngest member of the bar of whom I told you before."