“Great God! what sort of thing is that? An owl, a hedgehog?”
“It is my--my business agent,” replied Daréna; “he has looked to it that everything is properly prepared, and now he has come to assist you to alight; he is an extremely obliging man.”
“He may possibly be obliging, but he is very ugly; isn’t he, Rosina?”
“Yes. Oh! how stupid it is to be ugly like that!”
“And when you look from him to our charming little Monsieur Chérubin!”
“Gad! there’s as much difference as there is between the sun and a flea!”
“Come, mesdames, get out of the carriage; you can talk upstairs.”
The company soon assembled in the salon where the table was laid. Messieurs d’Hurbain and Monfréville had arrived at the same time with the cab containing Chérubin and the dancers. The notary went to Daréna and said in his ear:
“I trust, my dear count, that your dancers will behave properly here. I agree that by their graceful dancing and their bright eyes they have fascinated this young man; but he is still a mere child, who ought not to consort with ballet dancers----”
“Mon Dieu! don’t be alarmed! You surprise me! It is due to me that this baby of sixteen years and a half consented to leave his nurse, and, instead of thanking me, you preach at me. Be of service to people--exert your imagination--so that they may lecture you afterwards!”
“I say, Daréna,” said Monfréville, scrutinizing Monsieur Poterne, who was sidling by the ladies, casting furtive glances at them, to which they replied by wry faces, “is that horribly dirty person a friend of yours? Do you expect us to dine with him? I must confess that I am not charmed by the prospect of his company. Who is the fellow? He looks very like a hawk.”
“Ah! so you still have a steward? I thought that you had ceased to keep up an establishment.”
“I have kept nobody else. This man looks after my affairs--he’s an invaluable fellow for expedients.”
“In that case, he would do well to devise an expedient for obtaining another coat.”
“Well! aren’t we ever going to dine?” asked Malvina, trying a _pas de seul_ in a corner of the salon.
“Yes, indeed, madame. Come, Monsieur Chérubin, be kind enough to take your seat.”
Monsieur d’Hurbain was about to sit beside Chérubin, but Monfréville stopped him, saying in an undertone: