“Do you still waltz, Monsieur de Merval?”
“Oh! that is all over, madame; I have had my day.”
“Bless my soul! to hear you, one would think that we belonged to the age of Louis XV!”
“No one would think so to look at you, madame; time has stood still for you.”
This compliment restored the serenity of Madame de Grangeville’s expression, and she replied, simpering a little:
“Ah! you are always agreeable; would that I were back in those happy days! Tell me, Armand, if I remember aright, you used to pay court to me then,—yes, you were very attentive to me.”
Monsieur de Merval seemed decidedly embarrassed; he glanced about the salon and replied at last:
“I don’t deny it, madame, but I remember also that as soon as the Comte de Brévanne was introduced to you, discovering that his love was welcomed with enthusiasm, I thought only of making an honorable retreat; and I was wise, as the count became your husband.”
“Yes, he became my husband.”
“It was a love match, was it not, madame?”