The baron's carriage, which was at the door, conveyed us in a very short time to Madame Dauberny's, on Boulevard Montmartre.

On the way we said little; the baron was still dazed by the gaucheries he had committed and his joy at being invited to sup with the fair FrÉdÉrique; and, besides, I fancy that my presence embarrassed him; he did not know upon what footing I stood with the lady, but he saw that I too was to sup with her, and I think that that fact kept his mind busy.

Our singular hostess also seemed to be in a contemplative mood, and I was thinking of the glance Madame Sordeville bestowed upon me when I left her salon.

But Madame Dauberny resumed her playful mood as soon as we reached her house, and devoted herself to the duties of a hostess. I was very certain that we should not meet her husband; I had a secret conviction that he never attended her little supper parties.

"Three covers," said FrÉdÉrique to a servant who was in the reception room. "And a good fire, for there's no satisfaction in eating when one is cold. Is there a fire in the salon?"

"No, madame; but there is one in your room."

"Very well! let us go to my room, then, messieurs; you will allow me to receive you in my bedroom, will you not? At one o'clock in the morning, we may snap our fingers at etiquette."

"Ah, madame!" I said, bowing low; "it is a great favor, for which we thank you."

"Ah, montame!" said the baron, in his turn, with a still lower bow; "id vould pe fery bretty in any room mit you."

Without listening to our thanks, Madame Dauberny had already left the room before us. A lady's-maid carried a light. We arrived in the bed chamber of the lady whom Monsieur Archibald called a gaillarde. It was a delicious spot, furniture and draperies being in the most perfect taste; an alabaster globe hanging from the ceiling cast a soft light upon everything. Quantities of flowers, in lovely Chinese vases, filled the air with an intoxicating perfume. It was the retreat of a petite-maÎtresse; there was nothing there to suggest a gaillarde. I expected to find foils, pipes, and statuettes; I found nothing but flowers, and inhaled nothing but perfumes.

We were hardly ushered into her room when the charming FrÉdÉrique left us, saying:

"Messieurs, I crave your permission to go and make myself comfortable."

I was left alone with the Prussian baron; I examined him more closely, while he gazed amorously at the bed which stood at one end of the room. Herr von Brunzbrack seemed to be about forty years of age; he was tall and well built and powerful—a man of the type of those from whom Frederick the Great recruited a regiment of grenadiers. His blond coloring was a little too pronounced, although his hair, cut in military fashion, was less red than his moustaches; he had great blue eyes on a level with his face, which were always wide open, and which had not an intelligent expression; but, on the other hand, there was frankness in them, and a kindliness that soon gave place to wrath if anybody seemed inclined to make sport of him. Taken as a whole, Herr von Brunzbrack had what is conventionally called a "good face." He laughed very readily, opening a cavernous mouth; but he resumed his seriousness so suddenly that one was surprised to have heard him laugh.

As he spoke French with difficulty, he deemed it advisable to accompany his words with a pantomime which he considered most expressive, I doubt not, but which was often more grotesque than intelligible.

I do not know whether he was taking the trouble to draw my portrait at the same time, but I noticed that he glanced at me now and then out of the corner of his eye.

I tried to converse with him.

"This chamber is decorated with exquisite taste!"

"Ja! te shamber pe fery bretty."

"This cabinet is full of curious and well-selected objects."

"Ja! tere's a lot of leedle chems—for shildren."

"But the ladies like them, too."

"Oh, ja! te ladies haf shildren for blaytings."

"But I don't think that Madame Dauberny has any children."

"Oh, ja! all apoud—and on te mandel, too."

I did not understand him. I looked at the flowers in the vases, and said:

"There's nothing prettier and more ornamental than flowers! What a pity that they are perfect poison in a bedroom!"

The baron opened his eyes even wider than usual, and looked all about; I am not sure that he did not stoop to look under the bed. Then he rejoined:

"I see no poisson [fish] in te room."

Luckily, Madame Dauberny's return put an end to this interview, in which I found little amusement.

At sight of FrÉdÉrique, a cry of admiration escaped the baron and myself. She had put on an ample robe de chambre, of blue cashmere, caught in at the waist by a girdle of orange silk. The gown was buttoned to the neck, about which was a narrow white silk cravat, carelessly tied. Her feet were encased in fascinating orange slippers, studded with steel beads. Lastly, on her hair, which she had arranged in haste, in a bandeau on one side, and on the other in long curls, she had placed a small blue velvet toque, with an enormous silver tassel, which hung down on the same side as the curls and seemed to intensify their brilliancy.

It is impossible to describe the charm which that nÉgligÉ costume imparted to its wearer. Her figure was so gracefully outlined by the folds of the cashmere, her unique headdress gave so much expression to her features, that the baron and I remained under the spell and could not tire of gazing at her.

"Here I am," said FrÉdÉrique, with a smile. "As you see, I take the liberty of supping in a robe de chambre."

"Ah! how loafely you pe so!" murmured the baron, passing his right hand over his face as he spoke, kissing it, and throwing kisses to the ceiling.

"All right, all right, my dear baron! As I have told you, I can understand you without pantomime; so you may spare yourself so much extravagance of gesture.—Let us toast ourselves, messieurs, while we are waiting for our supper."

As she spoke, FrÉdÉrique seated herself in a great easy-chair in front of the fire; we took armchairs and moved them to her side, and in a moment all three had our feet on the andirons.

"Now," said FrÉdÉrique, "a few words by way of prologue to our supper.—You, Baron von Brunzbrack, I have known only two months, having met you in society; but I know that you are an honorable man. This evening you made a declaration of love in due form. You think, perhaps, that it was on that account that I invited you to sup with me. It is my duty to undeceive you. I do not love you, my dear baron; my heart will never beat one little bit faster because of you. It was to tell you that, and, at the same time, to offer you sincere friendship in place of love, that I asked you to sup with me. I trust that you are content with my course of action, and that you will show yourself worthy of my friendship."

The baron rolled his eyes about in most extraordinary fashion; he made a piteous face; he did not know whether he ought to appear offended or gratified; he looked down at the floor, heaved a sigh, and was about to take refuge in pantomime; but FrÉdÉrique placed her hand on his arm, saying:

"Sit still, and let me go on. I now present to you Monsieur Charles Rochebrune; I have known him only five days; he is a more recent acquaintance than you, but I know whom I am receiving; I know monsieur as well now as if we had been brought up together. Well, baron, do you know why I have invited monsieur to share my supper with you? It is because I know that he has no thought of loving me, of paying court to me; because his heart is wholly occupied by a very pretty woman, who has tormented him cruelly this evening, but who will be more amiable another time, no doubt."

The baron had no sooner heard these details concerning me than his face beamed with joy. The honest German had probably taken me for a rival, and a happy rival, I suppose; but as soon as he learned that nothing of the sort was true, and that I was not in love with Madame Dauberny, he turned to me and grasped my hand, crying:

"Ah! you not rifal of me. Gif me your hand; ve pe gut frents, ve untershtand each oder, ve tell each oder all ve haf onto our hearts."

And Herr von Brunzbrack put one of his hands to his breast, shook his head violently, and stamped on the floor like a horse anxious to leave the stable. I hastened to give him my hand, which he squeezed until he hurt me, repeating:

"Ve pe gut frents. Montame, she not bleeze you, hein?"

"We need not go so far, monsieur le baron; I beg you to believe that I do full justice to madame's wit and grace and abundant charms."

"Oh! enough! enough!" cried FrÉdÉrique; "you will alarm him. Just tell him simply that you are not at all in love with me and never expect to be."

I do not know why I was reluctant to say that; I looked at the graceful folds of FrÉdÉrique's gown, and did not reply.

"You see, my dear Herr von Brunzbrack," continued our amiable hostess, "I thought it best to tell you that Monsieur Rochebrune does not love me, that his heart is engrossed by another; in short, that you must not look upon him as a rival, for I saw you glaring at him with your big eyes, which are very savage when they are not very sweet; and because it is more agreeable to me to see perfect harmony between my guests. But do not reason from that, that other men do not make love to me, and that I do not love anybody. I have told you that you would never be my lover, so that you have no rights over me; and whenever it pleases me, even in your presence, to allow myself to be made love to, remember that you will have no right to say the least little word. Otherwise, it's all over between us; I withdraw my friendship, and I see you no more."

The baron heaved a sigh that reminded me of the low notes of the stout singer I had heard that evening. He beat his brow, gazed at the ceiling, then took my hand and shook it so that he nearly put my shoulder out of joint.

"Ah! my gut frent," he murmured, "montame can pe fery unkind. I know not how to say. But, nefer mind, ve must do als she say. But alvays shall I loafe her; alvays shall I loafe her madly."

"As for that," said FrÉdÉrique, "you may do as you please; I have no further concern with it. But I am not at all worried about your future repose. When a man sees that he cannot retain any hope, he soon ceases to love."

"Not te Prussian! Nein! nein! te more unhappier he is, te more constant he is!"

"So much the worse for the Prussian, then; the best thing he can do is to adopt the French fashion. But we have had enough of love and of unveiling the secrets of our hearts; you must understand, baron, that this subject of conversation would soon become monotonous to us all. I propose that we don't have any more of it at supper."

"Madame is served," said a footman.

"Bravo! Come, messieurs, give me a hand each. I will escort you. Remember that I command here, and that I must be obeyed."

"Here and everywhere, madame."

"Ja," said the baron, "eferyvere and elsevere."