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Therese thought he was at the Chamber, and even that he was making a speech there. Princess Seniavine, who was eating caviare sandwiches, asked Madame Martin why she had not gone to Madame Meillan's the day before. They had played a comedy there. "A Scandinavian play? Was it a success?" "Yes I don't know. I was in the little green room, under the portrait of the Duc d'Orleans.
Therese exclaimed: "I have hardly time to dress for dinner." And she passed swiftly between the stone lions, leaving her lover under the impression of a fairy-tale vision. In the drawing-room, after dinner, M. Berthier d'Eyzelles read the newspaper, and the Princess Seniavine played solitaire. Therese sat, her eyes half closed over a book.
In the morning, at the Ricardi Palace, on the frescoes of Gozzoli, she had recognized M. Gamin, M. Lagrange, M. Schmoll, the Princess Seniavine as a page, and M. Renan on horseback. She was terrified at finding M. Renan everywhere. She led all her ideas back to her little circle of academicians and fashionable people, by an easy turn, which irritated her friend.
At night, Princess Seniavine has a fine blond complexion; in the sun she is as yellow as a lemon. It must be owned that she does not care. She is not a coquette." "And you are?" "Oh, yes. Formerly I was a coquette for myself, now I am a coquette for you." She looked at the Sabine woman, who with her waving arms, long and robust, tried to avoid the Roman's embraces.
The Jews brought to Italy the science of Greece and of the Orient. The Renaissance, Madame, is the work of Israel. That is the truth, certain but misunderstood." And he went through the crowd of visitors, crushing hats as he passed. Princess Seniavine looked at her friend from her box with the curiosity that the beauty of women at times excited in her.
"It is the same with fencing," he added. "Formerly " Princess Seniavine interrupted him: "General, look and see how charming Madame Martin is. She is always charming, but at this moment she is prettier than ever. It is because she is bored. Nothing becomes her better than to be bored. Since we have been here, we have bored her terribly.
In the proscenium boxes were the wife of the Austrian Ambassador and the Duchess Gladwin; in the amphitheatre Berthe d'Osigny and Jane Tulle, the latter made famous the day before by the suicide of one of her lovers; in the boxes, Madame Berard de La Malle, her eyes lowered, her long eyelashes shading her pure cheeks; Princess Seniavine, who, looking superb, concealed under her fan panther like yawnings; Madame de Morlaine, between two young women whom she was training in the elegances of the mind; Madame Meillan, resting assured on thirty years of sovereign beauty; Madame Berthier d'Eyzelles, erect under iron-gray hair sparkling with diamonds.
Therese thought he was at the Chamber, and even that he was making a speech there. Princess Seniavine, who was eating caviare sandwiches, asked Madame Martin why she had not gone to Madame Meillan's the day before. They had played a comedy there. "A Scandinavian play? Was it a success?" "Yes I don't know. I was in the little green room, under the portrait of the Duc d'Orleans.
In the dining-room, Count Martin-Belleme was doing the honors of his table with the good grace, the sad politeness, recently prescribed at the Elysee to represent isolated France at a great northern court. From time to time he addressed vapid phrases to Madame Garain at his right; to the Princess Seniavine at his left, who, loaded with diamonds, felt bored.
"It is true," said Montessuy, "that if it were not for the railways the peasants would still wear their picturesque costumes of other times. But we should not see them." "What does it matter?" replied Madame Raymond. "We could imagine them." "But," asked the Princess Seniavine, "do you ever see interesting things? I never do."
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