“Monsieur Simon is jealous of your enthusiasm for the mysterious count,” said Ernestine.
“It seems to me,” said Cecile, “that Monsieur Simon has no right to be jealous of my affections.”
After which remark, uttered in a way to dumfound Simon, Cecile rose; the others made way for her and she went to her mother, who was just finishing her rubber of whist.
“My dearest!” cried Madame Marion, hurrying after the heiress, “I think you are rather hard on my poor Simon.”
“What has she done, my dear little kitten?” asked Madame Beauvisage.
“Mamma, Monsieur Simon called my great Unknown an adventurer!”
Simon had followed his aunt and was now beside the card-table. The four persons whose interests were concerned were thus in the middle of the salon,—Cecile and her mother on one side of the table, Madame Marion and her nephew on the other.
“Really, madame,” said Simon Giguet, “there must be a strong desire to find fault and to quarrel with me simply because I happened to say that a gentleman whom all Arcis is talking about and who stops at the Mulet—”
“Do you think he has come here to put himself in competition with you?” said Madame Beauvisage jestingly.
“I should be very indignant with him certainly if he were to cause the slightest misunderstanding between Mademoiselle Cecile and myself,” said the candidate, with a supplicating look at the young girl.