At the end of the meal he examined the room. "On my word, my girl, they have given you the royal suite: that must come pretty expensive."
"M. Darbois," said Jean Perliez, "gave me a very liberal sum of money, with instructions to spare nothing for our little queen."
"There you have it, if that is not the exaggeration of a lover! Little Queen! You are pouring poison in continuous doses into this little head, which is already full of nonsense. Esperance will end by taking herself seriously; she is already far too dictatorial for a child of seventeen." He added to himself, "She must be corrected, I will do it myself!"
Esperance raised her eyelids, and her clear blue eyes seemed to pierce the eyeballs of the foolish blunderer, until he fluttered his lashes and closed his eyes to escape the powerful silent denial of his authority.
"Very well," he said, succeeding in half opening his eyes, "look at me as much as you like, that does not keep me from distrusting you, my child. You are nice-looking, you have a pretty voice, you may some day develop some talent; but you know, your inexperience is obvious, and I am very anxious to know how you will pull through to-night."
"Do not disturb yourself, M. Meydieux, Esperance had a triumph at the last rehearsal at the Française." (Mlle. Frahender nodded agreement.) "I believe," Jean continued, "that she is going to receive a perfect ovation this evening."
"I believe it too," added the old lady, "and permit me to state, my dear sir, that you judge my young pupil very unfairly. She is just as modest, just as gentle, as she was a year ago, and those who love her may be well reassured of that fact. Since you are among them," she went on boldly, "you should realize it and rejoice in it."
Adhemar shrugged his shoulders. "They are all mad, even the old saint!"
They left the table. He stopped before a basket of flowers. "Who sent you those, my child?"
"Count Albert Styvens," replied Jean.