We went into society very rarely, and we had been to but two balls since our wedding. But one morning we received cards and an invitation to the wedding party of Monsieur Ferdinand de Bélan and Mademoiselle Armide de Beausire. Eugénie was not far enough advanced to fear that dancing would injure her; moreover, she promised to dance only a little; so we determined to go to Bélan’s wedding, where I had an idea that we should find something to laugh at. My wife agreed with me. Bélan had been to see us twice since we were married, and Eugénie considered that he made himself rather ridiculous by his chatter and his affectations. As for the Beausire family, the little that I had seen of them seemed to me rather amusing.
The invitation included, upon a separate sheet, an intimation that we were expected to attend the breakfast also.
That was a pleasure of which we determined to deprive ourselves. We mistrusted wedding breakfasts, which are about as amusing as an amateur concert or a parlor reading; we had made up our minds to go to the ball only, when Bélan appeared in our apartment.
The little dandy bowed to the floor before my wife, which was not a difficult feat for him; then he shook hands with me and said with an air of triumph:
“Did you receive our invitations?”
“Yes, my dear fellow. First, let us congratulate you.”
“I accept your congratulations with pleasure. I certainly have reason to be flattered by the preference accorded me. I had seventeen rivals, three of whom were millionaires who owned iron foundries, factories or coal mines; and two marquises, one of them with six decorations; but I beat them all; and like Cæsar, veni, vidi, vici. We may rely upon you, may we not?”
“Oh yes, we shall be at your ball.”
“And at the breakfast?”
“As to the breakfast, we cannot promise.”