First, there was a gentleman of very attractive appearance and with a distinguished air, whom they called Monsieur de Merval; he entered the salon with the ease of manner born of familiarity with good society, saluted one and all without knocking anybody down, and shook hands with Monsieur Glumeau without hitting him in the stomach. Although Monsieur de Merval was no longer a young man, he was still most attractive; which was proved by the fact that when he entered the salon, all the ladies, young and old, drew themselves up, and composed their features and their bearing; you will never see a woman do all that for a man who is not worth the trouble.
Monsieur Glumeau, who seemed to have much consideration for Monsieur de Merval, forgot for a moment the remedy he was awaiting, to say to him some of those courteous phrases which people exchange in society, as we exchange silver for small coins.
“I do not see madame,” replied the newcomer, after paying his respects to Mademoiselle Eolinde.
“Mamma will be here d—d—directly; she has g—g—gone to pre—pre——”
“My wife has gone to see if dinner will be served soon,” hastily interposed Monsieur Glumeau. “The master’s eye, you know, or rather the mistress’s, is always indispensable when one entertains a few friends.”
“And your son?”
“My son—I can’t understand his absence; he should have been here long ago; something has happened——”
“P—p—papa, I think I hear my b—b—brother’s voice in the d—d—dining-room; he’s with Monsieur Cha—Chambourdin.”
“That’s very fortunate; we shall know in a minute what has detained him.”—And Monsieur Glumeau whispered in his daughter’s ear: “Go and see if your mother has prepared—you know what. I must have it.”
“But p—p—papa, I c—c—can’t—can’t leave the s—s—salon n—now; that would l—l—leave only you with the g—g—guests, and you’re not very b—b—brilliant.”