“Exactly, mademoiselle,” said the architect; “the charm comes from the harmony which reigns between the wainscots, walls, cornices, and the decorations; I have gilded nothing, the colors are sober, and not extravagant in tone.”
“It is a science,” said Cesarine.
A boudoir in green and white led into Cesar’s study.
“Here I have put a bed,” said Grindot, opening the doors of an alcove cleverly hidden between the two bookcases. “If you or madame should chance to be ill, each can have your own room.”
“But this bookcase full of books, all bound! Oh! my wife, my wife!” cried Cesar.
“No; that is Cesarine’s surprise.”
“Pardon the feelings of a father,” said Cesar to the architect, as he kissed his daughter.
“Oh! of course, of course, monsieur,” said Grindot; “you are in your own home.”
Brown was the prevailing color in the study, relieved here and there with green, for a thread of harmony led through all the rooms and allied them with one another. Thus the color which was the leading tone of one room became the relieving tint of another. The engraving of Hero and Leander shone on one of the panels of Cesar’s study.
“Ah! thou wilt pay for all this,” said Birotteau, looking gaily at it.