"After all, I am as good as all these people—better perhaps. Even if they do have carriages—what difference does it make to me?"
Robineau said this to himself in order that he might not seem embarrassed and intimidated when he entered the salons; but it did not prevent his being red of face and stiff and awkward when he found himself in the midst of the guests, where he vainly sought Alfred for some time. At last his friend came to him, and, taking his arm, began by indulging in some jesting remarks concerning divers persons present. This gave Robineau time to recover himself; he resumed his self-assurance, his customary smile, and began to cast his eyes upon the ladies, thinking only of making conquests.
"By the way, your father, Monsieur le Baron de Marcey—I have not yet had the honor of paying my respects to him," said Robineau, as he gazed admiringly at some very pretty young ladies who had just entered the salon.
"My father has seen you before; must I present you to him again? It’s the same ceremony every time!"
"It’s a long time since he saw me, my dear fellow, and——"
"That makes no difference; you have one of those faces that no one ever forgets."
As he spoke, Alfred walked away to speak to some ladies, and Robineau murmured:
"I certainly have a face that—I wonder if he meant that for an epigram? that would be very becoming in him.—Ah! there is Monsieur de Marcey."
A man of some forty-eight years was passing Robineau at that moment; he was of tall stature and his carriage was noble and imposing; his strongly marked features were still very handsome, although they seemed to be already fatigued by too intense emotions rather than by years. He was a little bald in front, although his hair was still dark; lastly, his face was habitually serious and almost stern. But to those persons who could read his countenance more understandingly, the expression of his somewhat sombre glance was rather melancholy than severe. However, his black eyes grew softer, and a faint smile played about his lips whenever he looked at his son. Such was the Baron de Marcey.
"Monsieur de Marcey,—I have the honor—I am much flattered——"