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His giving her the portrait was a kind of defiance, to show her that he didn't care that for the original." "Oh, well, if you think so!" said I. "Mrs. Bal thinks so. And she's enchanted to get her revenge.
We were going to the Elysee Montmartre, and Alphonsine lent her a couple of louis, pour passer sa soiree, and we all went away in carriages, the little horses straining up the steep streets; the plumes of the women's hats floating over the carriage hoods. Marie was in one of the front carriages, and was waiting for us on the high steps leading from the street to the bal.
"He appears to be something of the sort," I was obliged to answer, as she appealed to me. "The Douglas Heart, you know! And he has a cousin with whom he's staying " "Oh, do, dear Mr. Norman, like an angel of mercy 'square' them for me, will you, and all the others who know?" Mrs. Bal implored, ostentatiously ignoring Somerled, who had too evidently gone over to the younger generation.
She then told me for the second time that she intended joining our party as soon as Somerled left Edinburgh to follow us, as she thought he surely would. "He wouldn't have gone a step while that girl was here with Mrs. Bal," she exclaimed, almost fiercely, "but in spite of all he's said about seeing old landmarks and looking up old friends, he'll be off after you when you've taken Barrie away.
"Bloody well smashed up!" he replied simply. And he shrugged his shoulders. That Vandeuvres was a mere child! She made a bored little gesture. That evening at the Bal Mabille Nana obtained a colossal success. When toward ten o'clock she made her appearance, the uproar was afready formidable.
No, no, there's no Necessity of your Civility, Mistress; leave that to me who understand the due Punctilios of it. Bal. Harkye, Son, Harkye! Fran. Father mine, every Man to his business, I say, therefore say no more of this; for I'll give my Mother's Son to the Devil, when any Wife of mine ever makes a Visit to the Governor; and there's an end on't.
But she had replied to Rowden's invitation by a dainty little note, ending: and I am sure that you will understand when I say that this time I will leave you gentlemen in undisturbed possession of the evening, for I know how dearly men love to meet and behave like bears all by themselves. But I shall see you all afterward at the Opera. Au revoir then at the Bal Masque.
She was an opera-girl of the school of Josepha and Jenny Cadine, capable of playing any trick on a paying adorer; yet she was a good comrade, dreading no power on earth, accustomed as she was to see the weak side of the strong and to hold her own with the police at the scarcely idyllic Bal de Mabille and the carnival.
Not once had he looked at Barrie. All his attention was for the mother. She asked a question. Answering it, he indicated Mrs. James and me. "Oh, please introduce them!" Mrs. Bal commanded pleasantly. This was a signal for us to approach. "Mr. Basil Norman," she said. "You are the author, of course. How nice to meet you! Of course I read your books. And your sister who collaborates where is she?"
Our first encounter is with the Tabarin, in the Annagasse, an establishment not unlike the Bal Tabarin in Paris. From there we go to the Rauhensteingasse and enter Maxim's, brazenly heralded as the Montmartre of Vienna. Then on to the Wallfischgasse to mingle with the confused visitors of the Trocadero, where we are urged to have supper. But time is fleeting.
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