"That will do, Maurice," said the lady, freely and easily; "that will do, I thank you. Mon Dieu! I shall never wear that horrid shawl any more; mantelets of satin, laced and furred, are becoming all the rage. Maurice, I know you have quite the eye of a modiste; tell me, don't you think that a mantelet will become me?"
"Madame would appear superb in any thing," replied the other without hesitation, but bowing low while he spoke.
"Oh, Maurice, you are getting quite commonplace. But I suppose it will become me as well as the venerable Berthollet of the Rue de Rivoli."
"Doubtless, madame," replied the Guardsman composedly; while, without noticing her roguish look, he handed her a glass of wine.
"And here, this dear naughty husband of mine asks me not a single question about my morning airing," said Madame, as she sprang up and arranged the cushions at the old man's back. "Maurice, help me to punch these pillows. Monsieur the baron has been poring over some musty old book till he has been quite overcome with ennui, I suppose. Mon Dieu! what a horrid thing it is to become an antiquary!" she continued, as she turned up her fine eyes, and shrugged her fair shoulders. "Do you know, Monsieur Stuart, that ever since the baron became a member of the Comité Historique des Arts et Monumens, he has been like a man bewitched!"
The attention of his beautiful wife restored the old man's urbanity and good humour, and when the baroness pressed the visitors to remain to dinner, he seconded her invitation, and they stayed.
Stuart had reason to regret that they did so, for De Mesmai's folly brought about a very disagreeable termination to the visit.
After much common-place conversation, he requested the baroness to favour them with the fashionable air then so much in vogue, and she at once acceded. The old baron was quite charmed with his wife's performance, and, closing his eyes, beat time with his fingers on a worm-eaten volume of Pierre de Maimbourg; but his triumph was somewhat soured by the presence of De Mesmai, who seated himself close by Diane for the purpose of turning over the leaves, and he seemed quite in raptures with her. Stuart likewise was much pleased, for the soft tones of her voice were delightful to hear, and his patriotism was roused and his pride flattered by the words of the song,—'A good Voyage to the gallant Scots.' It was a quick and lively air, and had been first adopted by the garde-du-corps and other troops of Louis XVIII., after which it rapidly became popular: the ladies sounded it forth from their harps and pianos, the dandies hummed it on the Boulevards, the boys whistled it in the streets, and the grisettes sung it at their work; and, from reveillé till tattoo, scarcely any other tune was heard in the camps, barracks, and cantonments.
CHAPTER XVII.
A CATASTROPHE.