The next day, at noon, the large hall in the Hôtel de Marvejols was arranged as if for a solemn ceremonial. Chairs were placed in rows on each side. At one end a large table, covered with a velvet cloth with gold fringe, stood before three handsome armchairs, each provided with a sumptuous silken footstool. On the table were papers and writing materials.
Several valets in rich livery, among them old Hector, went in and out of the hall, making sure that everything was prepared in accordance with their master's orders.
As the clock struck two, one of the doors opened, and three persons were ushered into the hall. They were Bathilde, Ambroisine, and Master Hugonnet.
Bathilde, whose aspect was made even more interesting by her condition and her suffering expression, leaned on her friend's arm, trembling from head to foot, and seemed to lack courage to raise her eyes.
Ambroisine walked forward with a confident step, although, in the depths of her heart, she was intensely excited. Then came the master bath keeper, who entered the hall with a respectful demeanor, cap in hand, saluting all the servants and even the articles of furniture as he passed, because the magnificence of the hôtel made a profound impression upon him.
Old Hector stepped forward at once to meet the young women, and escorted them to one side of the hall, where he gave them seats, saying:
"Pray be seated; monsieur le marquis will come very soon. Pray be seated, and your companion also."
Bathilde and her friends had been in the hall hardly five minutes, afraid to do more than exchange a few words in whispers, when another door opened and the Marquis de Marvejols entered, accompanied by two gentlemen, one of whom, almost as old as the marquis, had a venerable, benevolent face which inspired respect and confidence; while the other, who was much younger, had a noble, severe expression, and a glance that seemed determined to read one's inmost heart.
"That is the marquis!" whispered Ambroisine to Bathilde; but she, instead of looking up, cast her eyes on the floor and felt as if she were about to swoon.
She rose, however, on the entrance of the three gentlemen, as did her friend and Master Hugonnet. The new-comers bowed graciously to the persons who were in the hall before them; and the marquis, walking forward alone toward Ambroisine, said to her, looking at Bathilde: