"Your friend is wonderfully sober," said the general to Frédéric; "you have brought us an anchorite."
After the dinner, dancing engaged the attention of the guests for the rest of the evening. The new husband and wife indulged in that pastime, which enabled them to wait with more patience for the greater pleasures to come; dancing is always essential to bring a wedding party to a cheerful termination.
But Dubourg did not dance; he walked stiffly through the salons, holding his head as if he had a stiff neck, and never stopping near an écarté table.
"Don't you play, Monsieur Dubourg?" asked the count, with a smile.
"No, monsieur le comte; I have altogether renounced all games for money; I care for nothing but chess; that is the only sensible game, and the only one suited to me."
"Don't you dance, either?"
"Never; I care for nothing but the minuet, which is a sedate and dignified dance. It's a great pity that it isn't danced nowadays."
"The deuce! Monsieur Dubourg, you are tremendously changed. You used to be a little giddy, I think."
"Ah! monsieur le comte, other times, other cares; with advancing years, one grows wiser."
"Advancing years! why, it's not one year yet since you played Hippolyte, and would have made poor Ménard play Thésée."