Everyone in the meantime made an effort to calm Madame de Larsillois. Order was reestablished. There was no longer anything to fear.
“Cavaignac has saved us!”
As if the horrors of the insurrection had not been sufficiently numerous, they exaggerated them. There had been twenty-three thousand convicts on the side of the Socialists—no less!
They had no doubt whatever that food had been poisoned, that Gardes Mobiles had been sawn between two planks, and that there had been inscriptions on flags inciting the people to pillage and incendiarism.
“Aye, and something more!” added the ex-prefect.
“Oh, dear!” said Madame Dambreuse, whose modesty was shocked, while she indicated the three young girls with a glance.
M. Dambreuse came forth from his study accompanied by Martinon. She turned her head round and responded to a bow from Pellerin, who was advancing towards her. The artist gazed in a restless fashion towards the walls. The banker took him aside, and conveyed to him that it was desirable for the present to conceal his revolutionary picture.
“No doubt,” said Pellerin, the rebuff which he received at the Club of Intellect having modified his opinions.
M. Dambreuse let it slip out very politely that he would give him orders for other works.
“But excuse me. Ah! my dear friend, what a pleasure!”
Arnoux and Madame Arnoux stood before Frederick.
He had a sort of vertigo. Rosanette had been irritating him all the afternoon with her display of admiration for soldiers, and the old passion was reawakened.
The steward came to announce that dinner was on the table. With a look she directed the Vicomte to take Cécile’s arm, while she said in a low tone to Martinon, “You wretch!” And then they passed into the dining-room.
Under the green leaves of a pineapple, in the middle of the tablecloth, a dorado stood, with its snout reaching towards a quarter of roebuck and its tail just grazing a bushy dish of crayfish. Figs, huge cherries, pears, and grapes (the first fruits of Parisian cultivation) rose like pyramids in baskets of old Saxe. Here and there a bunch of flowers mingled with the shining silver plate. The white silk blinds, drawn down in front of the windows, filled the apartment with a mellow light. It was cooled by two fountains, in which there were pieces of ice; and tall menservants, in short breeches, waited on them. All these luxuries seemed more precious after the emotion of the past few days. They felt a fresh de light at possessing things which they had been afraid of losing; and Nonancourt expressed the general sentiment when he said:
“Ah! let us hope that these Republican gentlemen will allow us to dine!”
“In spite of their fraternity!” Père Roque added, with an attempt at wit.
These two personages were placed respectively at the right and at the left of Madame Dambreuse, her husband being exactly opposite her, between Madame Larsillois, at whose side was the diplomatist and the old Duchesse, whom Fumichon elbowed. Then came the painter, the dealer in faïence, and Mademoiselle Louise; and, thanks to Martinon, who had carried her chair to enable her to take a seat near Louise, Frederick found himself beside Madame Arnoux.
She wore a black barège gown, a gold hoop on her wrist, and, as on the first day that he dined at her house, something red in her hair, a branch of fuchsia twisted round her chignon. He could not help saying:
“ ’Tis a long time since we saw each other.”
“Ah!” she returned coldly.
He went on, in a mild tone, which mitigated the impertinence of his question:
“Have you thought of me now and then?”
“Why should I think of you?”
Frederick was hurt by these words.
“You are right, perhaps, after all.”
But very soon, regretting what he had said, he swore that he had not lived a single day without being ravaged by the remembrance of her.
“I don’t believe a single word of it, Monsieur.”
“However, you know that I love you!”
Madame Arnoux made no reply.
“You know that I love you!”
She still kept silent.
“Well, then, go be hanged!” said Frederick to himself.
And, as he raised his eyes, he perceived Mademoiselle Roque at the other side of Madame Arnoux.
She thought it gave her a coquettish look to dress entirely in green, a colour which contrasted horribly with her red hair. The buckle of her belt was large and her collar cramped her neck. This lack of elegance had, no doubt, contributed to the coldness which Frederick at first displayed towards her. She watched him from where she sat, some distance away from him, with curious glances; and Arnoux, close to her side, in vain lavished his gallantries—he could not get her to utter three words, so that, finally abandoning all hope of making himself agreeable to her, he listened to the conversation. She now began rolling about a slice of Luxembourg pineapple in her pea-soup.
Louis Blanc, according to Fumichon, owned a large house in the Rue Saint-Dominique, which he refused to let to the workmen.
“For my part, I think it rather a funny thing,” said Nonancourt, “to see Ledru-Rollin hunting over the Crown lands.”
“He owes twenty thousand francs to a goldsmith!” Cisy interposed, “and ’tis maintained—”
Madame Darnbreuse stopped him.
“Ah! how nasty it is to be getting hot about politics! and for such a young man, too! fie, fie! Pay attention rather to your fair neighbour!”
After this, those who were of a grave turn of mind attacked the newspapers. Arnoux took it on himself to defend them. Frederick mixed himself up in the discussion, describing them as commercial establishments just like any other house of business. Those who
