“Thank you, Jean,” said Madame. “And now I am going to ask more of you. I want you to write to all these addresses for me, on that nice new rough paper I bought the other day, and invite everyone to Louis’ ball. You see these are all my friends, and he wants the affair to be a great success; some of these names may help to make it so. I specially want the two princes to come—Prince Ivan and Prince Rudolph—tell them La Salvi is going to sing; I must make her, for otherwise perhaps she would refuse—the good Salvi is a person with whom one must go very gently. She comes to town to-morrow, I think, and Louis has set his heart on it; it will be a chance for us to show him that we are his very good friends.”
Jean took the little address book out of her hand. He thought, perhaps, that he might stoop and kiss it, and that Madame would not be very angry; she was not very angry. But at this moment a knock came at the door and the butler announced with immense ceremony, “Madame Salvi!”
Madame Torialli gave a little cry of surprise and delight, and sprang forward to meet her, while Jean, after a hasty glance at the new arrival, turned into the adjoining room. The new rough paper Madame had mentioned was on her desk, and Jean sat there, as he often did to write her notes for her.
The door was open between the two rooms, for the night was hot. As for Madame Torialli, the new arrival had swept poor Jean as completely from her mind as if he were an autumn leaf before a gale. It was not every day that Salvi came unannounced to call upon her.
La Salvi had advanced into the room, with all the air of expecting to be met which marks a royal personage. For in Paris Salvi was royalty. She had the greatest voice in the world and she had ruled it for twenty years. She was a big, fat woman with a large red wig; tucked under her arm she carried a small King Charles spaniel, which yapped dolefully. He was also too fat, and was addicted, like his mistress, to sweet cakes and cream. Unfortunately his resemblance ended there, for though he used his voice quite as much as she did, he was not so gifted in its timbre.
“My dear! what a surprise and what a pleasure! And how well you are looking!” cried Madame Torialli. “But fancy not telling me though! Think if I had had the misfortune to be out!”
Madame Salvi sat down with a doubtful glance at the slim delicate chair-legs before she answered. The dog yelped and she panted.
“I didn’t know I was coming myself,” she explained at length. “How was I to imagine, when I had left particular orders with the servants always to expect me back at any moment, that the cook should have gone to his mother’s funeral!”
“My dear, have you had anything to eat? But how shocking!” exclaimed Madame Torialli, with sympathy.
“Yes, thanks, I went to a restaurant. I had a man in the motor. It doesn’t matter, dear. I’ve sent him away now, but I might have been alone; if I had been, consider how I should have bored myself.” Salvi shuddered.