The young man smiled and nodded without answering.
"Has anyone introduced M. Spiegel?" continued Bijou, still addressing the count. "No? well, then, I will repair such negligence. Monsieur Spiegel, Jeanne's _fiancé_, who does not dare to support me, and declare that I am right, because he is not in the majority here; there is no one here who is married but himself--that is to say, nearly married."
"Oh, indeed, and what about Paul?" asked the marchioness, laughing.
"Paul! Oh, yes, that's true; I was not thinking of him! Anyhow, the unmarried persons are in the majority--Henry, Pierrot, Monsieur Courteil, M. Giraud, Jean--well, what's the matter with Jean? he does look queer!"
Jean de Blaye was seated in an arm-chair, with his eyes half-closed and his head resting on his hand, looking very drowsy.
"I have a headache!" he answered; and then, as Bijou persisted, and wanted to know what had given him a headache, he exclaimed gruffly: "Well, what do you want me to say? It's a headache; how can I tell what's given it me? It comes itself how it likes--that's all I know!"
Bijou had gone behind the arm-chair in which her cousin was lounging.
"You must have a very, very bad headache to look as you do," she said, not at all discouraged by his abrupt manner, and noticing his pale face, his drawn features, and his eyes, with dark circles round them, "and for you to own, too, that there is anything the matter with you; because you always set up for being so strong and well. Poor Jean, I do wish you could get rid of it."
She bent forward, and pressing her lips gently on the young man's weary eyelids, remained like that a few seconds.
Jean de Blaye turned pale, and then very red, and rose hastily from his chair.
"You startled me," he said, in an embarrassed way, not knowing where to look, "how stupid I am; but I did not see you were so near, so you quite surprised me."
M. de Clagny had risen, too, in an excited way on seeing Bijou kiss her cousin. It occurred to him though, at once, how very ridiculous his jealousy would appear, and he sat down again, saying in a jesting tone:
"Well, if that remedy does not take effect, de Blaye's case is incurable."
M. de Rueille looked enviously at Jean, who was just going out of the drawing-room, and then, turning to Bijou, he remarked, in a hoarse voice: