It may be that those persons who insist upon knowing in whose company they are, who are afraid to sit at a card table with a gentleman or lady whose social position is not definitely fixed, might have found much to criticise in the society which was wont to assemble in the salons of Monsieur Grazcernitz (such was the wealthy foreigner's name); but as the number of those who like to be entertained is very considerable, he was always certain of having an abundance of guests.
To obtain an invitation from Monsieur Grazcernitz, it was sufficient to have cut a figure in society, to have made a name for one's self in letters, art, or commerce, to be able to sing an aria or a ballad with taste and expression, to tell an anecdote interestingly, or even to make a pun. To the ladies, the wealthy foreigner was even more indulgent; a pretty woman, a woman of fashion, a blue-stocking, an unknown or unappreciated artist, were always welcome in his salon. One often met there people whom one never met on the fashionable promenades or at the theatre; just as we may meet at a railroad station a friend whom we have not seen for several years, a mistress who, we supposed, had gone to Russia, an old artist whom we believed to be dead—in a word, someone whom we should vainly seek in the streets of Paris.
Now, Monsieur Grazcernitz's salons were frequently honored by the presence of Monsieur and Madame Plays. Monsieur went thither as his wife's escort, and madame to display her charms and her dresses, and to make conquests. It was at that house that she had made Albert Vermoncey's acquaintance.
Madame Baldimer also was an habitué of the wealthy foreigner's salons. It was at his receptions that she had been named the fair American.
Balivan, the absent-minded painter, was also to be met with there, and the jovial Mouillot, Dupétrain the magnetizer, the young man with the white eyebrows, and Monsieur Célestin de Valnoir, who possessed the art of insinuating himself everywhere.
Tobie Pigeonnier had obtained an introduction to Monsieur Grazcernitz a short time before the loss of his olive; he had been overjoyed to find himself at a function where punch, ices, cake, and delicacies of all sorts, were served in great profusion to the guests. Since the adventure of the fetich, he had not dared to show his face in Monsieur Grazcernitz's salon, and that was not one of the least of his annoyances.
Madame Baldimer had just been announced. She entered the salon under the escort of Monsieur Dupétrain, who, by dint of telling her that he possessed the power of magnetizing and putting to sleep anybody that she chose, had succeeded in inducing her to receive him.
The fair American was magnificently dressed, and resplendent with diamonds and jewelry; the beauty of her face and the splendor of her costume attracted every eye, and a circle soon formed about her.
"That Dupétrain's a lucky dog!" said a very ugly little man; "he is Madame Baldimer's escort, she accepts his arm. How can anyone understand such a whim? to select for her cavalier an ugly creature—with nothing to recommend him—while so many good-looking young men, men of real merit, are paying court to her!"
"What does that prove?" rejoined a gentleman, laughing in the last speaker's face. "You don't suppose Dupétrain is that woman's lover, do you? on the contrary, she accepts his arm because he's of no consequence at all. Besides, she has been courted by many other men, who have been no more fortunate for having acted as her cavalier. That lovely creature impresses me as being inclined to amuse herself at the expense of every man who is attentive to her."