“Very well, Crepin: you have done your part, and Nature has done hers, for Monsieur.”
“Yes, truly,” said Crepin, “Nature has done wonders for Monsieur; and Monsieur, now he is dressed, has really all the air of a Frenchman.”
“Quite l’air comme il faut! l’air noble!” added Connal; and he agreed with Crepin in opinion that French dress made an astonishing difference in Mr. Ormond.
“Madame de Connal, I am sure, will think so,” continued Connal, “will see it with admiration—for she really has good taste. I will pledge myself for your success. With that figure, with that air, you will turn many heads in Paris—if you will but talk enough. Say every thing that comes into your head—don’t be like an Englishman, always thinking about the sense—the more nonsense the better—trust me—livrez-vous—let yourself out—follow me, and fear nothing,” cried he, running down stairs, delighted with Ormond and with himself.
He foresaw that he should gain credit by producing such a man. He really wished that Ormond should succeed in French society, and that he should pass his time agreeably in Paris.
No man could feel better disposed towards another. Even if he should take a fancy to Madame, it was to the polite French husband a matter of indifference, except so far as the arrangement might, or might not, interfere with his own views.
And these views—what were they?—Only to win all the young man’s fortune at play. A cela près—excepting this, he was sincerely Ormond’s friend, ready to do every thing possible—de faire l’impossible—to oblige and entertain him.
Connal enjoyed Ormond’s surprise at the magnificence of his hotel. After ascending a spacious staircase, and passing through antechamber after antechamber, they reached the splendid salon, blazing with lights, reflected on all sides in mirrors, that reached from the painted ceiling to the inlaid floor.
“Not a creature here yet—happily.” “Madame begs,” said the servant, “that Monsieur will pass on into the boudoir.”
“Any body with Madame?”