When the young man had left, Esperance excused herself, saying that she was tired. She kissed her parents tenderly, although for the first time she felt an unjust and unfounded resentment against them. She was aggrieved that they should see nothing of Count Styvens's manoeuvres.
The maid, helping her to undress, exclaimed, "How grand it was this evening, Mademoiselle, and what a fine young gentleman!"
Esperance shrugged her shoulders disdainfully. Marguerite, coming in to see that the young mistress whom she adored wanted nothing, could not help saying, "Ah! Mademoiselle, what talent he has, that young Count! How well you two did look, your backs, sitting side by side! I just said to myself…."
Esperance shivered, guessing what was coming, and interrupted the good woman quickly, "Don't talk to me Marguerite, to-night. I am tired and I must go to sleep."
But she did not sleep.
CHAPTER XIII
The last presentation of Sardou's play was a veritable ovation for Esperance. Flowers were presented to her on the stage. Two baskets attracted special attention, one overflowing with white orchids; the other, with gardenias, so powerful in their sweetness that even the first rows of the orchestra felt their strength. It was rumoured in the boxes that the white orchids were sent by the Countess Styvens and her son Albert, who were sitting in a stall in the auditorium. As to the gardenias, the card attached to the green ribbons of the basket revealed the name of the most elegant clubman of Paris, the Duke Charles de Morlay-La-Branche. He was a handsome man of thirty-two, very wealthy, adored by women, popular with men. A ripple ran through the audience.
"You know the Duke, they say that he is very much taken…."
"They know each other?"
"No, he has never been presented."