Cæsar became a trifle dubious; indeed, the Countess was looking at him in a fixed and disdainful way.
“The Countess is a very intelligent woman,” said Cæsar; “I think you would all like her very much.”
Mme. Dawson said nothing; Cæsar rose, took his leave of the family, and went over to speak to the Countess and her daughter. She received him coldly. Cæsar thought he would stay long enough to be polite and then get away, when Carminatti, speaking to him in a very friendly way and calling him “mio caro,” asked him to introduce him to Mme. Dawson.
He did so, and when he had left the handsome Neapolitan leaning back in a chair beside the French ladies, he made the excuse that he had a letter to write, and said good-night.
“I see that you are an ogre,” said Mlle. de Sandoval.
“Do you want me for anything?”
“No, no; you may go when you choose.”
Cæsar repaired to his room.
“I don’t mind those people,” he said; “but if they think I am a man made for entertaining ladies, they are very clever.”
The next day Mme. Dawson talked with Cæsar very affably, and Mlle. de Sandoval made a few ironical remarks about his savage ways.