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Two tears, two little tears, glittered on her eye-lashes. M. Arthur was moved. A woman, a pretty woman, crying there, before him! Never had such homage been paid to his genius. "Well, madame, I am willing to make an attempt. A very simple dress " "Oh no, not simple. Very brilliant, on the contrary everything that is most brilliant. Derline " "Mme. Derline! You are Mme. Derline?" The two Mme.
Derline, he said: "She has great talent, but I shall myself superintend it; so be easy yes, I myself." Mme. Derline was a little confused, a little embarrassed by her glory, but happy nevertheless. Mademoiselle Blanche came forward. "Conduct madame," said M. Arthur, "and take the necessary measures for a ball-dress, very low, and with absolutely bare arms.
Derline went and placed herself before a long looking-glass, an old cheval-glass from Jacob's, which never till now had reflected other than good middle-class women married to good lawyers. In that glass she looked at herself, examined herself, studied herself, long, curiously, and eagerly. Of course she knew she was pretty, but oh, the power of print! She found herself absolutely delightful.
Derline, the wife of one of the most agreeable and richest lawyers in Paris. The Prince of Nérins, whose word has so much weight in such matters, said yesterday evening to every one who would listen, "She is the most beautiful woman in Paris." We are absolutely of that opinion. A single paragraph, and that was all. It was enough, it was too much!
His wife had never seemed so pretty to him, and, brought back to subjection, M. Derline returned to his study in order to make money for the most beautiful woman in Paris. A very wise and opportune occupation; for scarcely was Mme.
Derlines were followed by a glance and a smile the glance was at the newspaper and the smile was at Mme. Derline; but it was a discreet, self-contained smile the smile of a perfectly gallant man. This is what the glance and smile said with admirable clearness: "Ah I you are Mme. Derline that already celebrated Mme.
The evening before she had amused herself by having Palmer point out to her the social leaders in the house, and it so happened that the banker had pointed out to her the marvellous marquise. And Mme. Derline who was twenty-two raised herself a little to look in the glass. She exchanged a slight smile with a young blonde, who was very pink and white.
Society was well represented there; the beautiful Duchess of Montaiglon, the pretty Countess Verdinière of Lardac, the marvellous Marquise of Muriel, the lively Baroness of To read the name of the baroness it was necessary to turn the page. Mme. Derline did not turn it; she was thinking, reflecting.
The coupé was bought the next day by M. Derline, who also was beginning fully to realize the extent of his new duties. But the next day it was discovered that it was impossible to harness to that jewel of a coupé the old horse who had pulled the old carriage, and no less impossible to put on the box the old coachman who drove the old horse.
On the walls the great European powers were represented by photographs the Empress Eugénie, the Princess of Wales, a grand-duchess of Russia, and an archduchess of Austria. M. Arthur was there taking a few moments' rest, seated in a large arm-chair, with an air of lassitude and exhaustion, and with a newspaper spread out over his knees. He arose on seeing Mme. Derline enter.
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