A few moments later a gentleman and lady came toward us. I had not raised my eyes to look at them, but I had heard my own name. It was Monsieur Roquencourt and his niece.
They stopped in front of us.
“Yes, my niece was right, it is our dear friend Monsieur Dalbreuse!”
I rose and bowed to the uncle and niece. Caroline’s manner was cold but polite.
I did not recognize that animated and playful countenance which attached so many people to her chariot at Mont-d’Or; she had assumed a much more serious expression. Her glance was almost melancholy; but how well that new manner became her! How great a charm that change gave her in my eyes!
“My niece said a long way off: ‘There is Monsieur Dalbreuse;’ but I admit that I didn’t recognize you; and yet my sight is very good, I have never used spectacles. But who are these lovely children?”
“They are mine.”
“Yours? Oh yes! I remember now—my niece told me that you were married. They are charming; the little girl has magnificent eyes, and quite a little manner of her own. We shall make many conquests with those eyes.—And you, my fine fellow. Oh! you will play the handsome Leander with great success some day; you would be amazing with a club-wig.”
While Monsieur Roquencourt was looking at my children, his niece drew near to me and said in an undertone:
“So you have your children with you now?”