XIX
THE TRIP TO THE COUNTRY
The day came when I was to go to Madame de Marsan’s. I had told Caroline that she would not see me that evening, and she had seemed greatly disappointed, although we had had a little dispute the night before concerning a certain cashmere shawl, which I saw that she ardently coveted, and which I did not propose to give her. I had given her to understand, in fact, that she did not need a cashmere shawl to be charming; that she was more attractive to me in a simple and refined costume; and we had parted on the most friendly terms.
The clock struck seven; my toilet was completed. The concierge came to inform me that the cabriolet had arrived and was waiting in the courtyard. When it suited Raymond’s convenience, we might start; but what in the deuce was he still doing in his room? I concluded to investigate.
I found my neighbor just putting on his breeches.
“What, Monsieur Raymond! haven’t you got any further than that?”
“Oh! I’ll be ready in a moment, I assure you.”
“I’ll bet that you won’t be ready in half an hour.”
“Pshaw! you’ll see how quick I am! While you are waiting, amuse yourself by looking over my little water colors—my sketches; there are some very good little things there, as you’ll see. If I had more time to myself, I’d go into oils and exhibit at the Salon, but I am never at liberty.”
“I advise you to stick to water colors; yours are quite remarkable.”
“Aren’t they? There’s true burlesque, originality for you; the Calot sort of thing. Do you notice that Suzanna at the Bath?”