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Violet is so entranced that she almost forgets she is Floyd Grandon's wife, being made known to society. The first quadrilles are full of lovely gliding figures. Violet dances with her husband, then with Eugene. Floyd and Madame Lepelletier are in the same set. It is the first time he has danced with her since they were betrothed.
"He is still with the chiefs of the faubourgs and the committees of the Free-masons and workmen, in the Rue Lepelletier, issuing his last instructions for the morrow. Messieurs, that man is a magician! His zeal in the good cause puts the boldest of us all to the blush.
The idea of Eugene being cross is amusing. Laura flits out of the room much elated. She and Arthur can settle everything to-day, and the shopping will be so delightful, for Madame Lepelletier is quite as good as a Frenchwoman. Mrs. Grandon sighs, and Floyd looks at her questioningly. "You are so good, Floyd. It is such a relief to have you.
July 7th, seven o'clock P. M. I have just now been up the Boulevards; it was the opera night, and there was a crowd of carriages in the Rue Lepelletier. The foot-passengers who were stopped at a crossing recognized the persons in some of these as we went by, and mentioned their names; they were those of celebrated or powerful men, the successful ones of the day.
But I shall hold myself free for this afternoon if any of you ladies will honor me," bowing to Madame Lepelletier, who acknowledges it with a ravishing smile that makes every pulse thrill. Floyd and his mother have the first confidence. There are the sad particulars of the death, now more than six months old.
"What a magnificent woman Madame Lepelletier is," he says to Grandon. "We have some friends who met her in New York last winter, and I do not wonder at their enthusiasm. I little thought I should have the pleasure. There are not many of our countrywomen who could give so charming an evening." Grandon is pleased with the praise. His eyes follow the regal woman.
Cecil has cried herself to sleep in the vain effort to keep awake. Madame Lepelletier assumes her most beguiling smile, and counts on an hour or two, but he excuses himself briefly. The letter to Eugene must be written this evening, though he knows as well what the result will be as if he held the answer in his hand.
He and Floyd have been writing a book together about Egypt or Africa or the Nile. Mr. Latimer's club is to give him an elegant reception. Mrs. Latimer met him while they were at Berlin three years ago, when he had just come from some wonderful explorations. Oh, if Madame Lepelletier were only here, she would make Floyd one of the lions of the day! What an awful pity he is tied to that child!
They have all come to adore Madame Lepelletier. Even Mrs. Grandon is slowly admitting to herself that Floyd could not do better, and half resigns herself to the inevitable second place. Laura takes up the idea with the utmost enthusiasm. Gertrude does not share in this general worship; she is too listless, and there is a feeling of being distanced so very far that it is uncomfortable.
She hints at other steps which might have been taken, and he supposes it refers to his marriage with Madame Lepelletier. Tired at length of skirmishing about with no decisive result, Floyd boldly makes a proposal. It is best perhaps that he should be master in his own house, since of course he must provide for all expenses.
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