Behind this species of female flower-bed the black coated ranks crowded, their sombre hue relieved here and there by the uniform of some French officer or foreign military attaché. There was a profusion of orders, crosses and strange old faces, with red ribbons at the neck, deputies evidently in dress, youthful attachés of the ministry or embassy, correct in bearing and officious, their crush-hats under their arms and holding the satin programme of the musicale soirée in their hands, some numbers of which were about to be rendered. Under the ceilings that were dappled with painted clouds, surrounded by brilliant lights and a wealth of flowers, this crowd presented at once an aspect of luxury and oddity, with its living antitheses of old parliamentarians and tyros of the Assembly.
Intermingled with strains of music, were whisperings and the confused noise of conversations.
Guy watched with curiosity, as a man who has seen much and compares, all this gathering of guests. From time to time he greeted some one of his acquaintance, but this was a rare occurrence. He was delighted to see Ramel whom he had often met at Adrienne's Wednesdays, and whom he liked. He appeared to him to be fatigued and sick.
"I am not very well, in fact," said Ramel. "I have only come because I had something serious to say to Vaudrey."
"What then?" asked Lissac.
"Oh! nothing! some advice to give him as to the course to be followed. There is decidedly much underhand work going on about the President."
"Who is it?"
"Most of them are here!"
"His guests?"
"You know very well that when one invites all one's friends, one finds that three-quarters of one's enemies will be present."