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And Jory thereupon appropriated Claude, who had again become mournful and silent. 'You know, my dear fellow, said the journalist, 'I didn't send you any announcement of my marriage. On account of our position we managed it on the quiet without inviting any guests. All the same, I should have liked to let you know. You will excuse me, won't you?
And Jory was obliged to ring the bell, and then push him inside the hall, repeating that his excuse would not do; for they would send the valet to the Rue de Douai to tell his wife. A door opened and they found themselves face to face with Irma Becot, who uttered a cry of surprise as soon as she perceived the painter. 'What! is it you, savage? she said.
Amiable Journalist, what a quantity of flowers you fling to the young ones in that article in which you mentioned me! There were two or three youngsters spoken of who were simply geniuses, nothing less. Jory burst out laughing. 'Well, when a fellow has a paper, he must make use of it. Besides, the public likes to have great men discovered for it.
Claude and Jory remained motionless, astonished and embarrassed by those tokens of the intense anguish of art in its travail. Had they come at a moment of crisis, that this master thus groaned with pain, and consulted them like comrades?
So he saw to the invitations; Claude and Christine naturally must come; next Jory and his wife, the latter of whom it had been necessary to receive since her marriage, then Dubuche, who always came alone, with Fagerolles, Mahoudeau, and finally Gagniere.
'I have been told, muttered Jory, mildly, 'that he has just signed a very profitable agreement with Naudet. That name, thrown haphazard into the conversation, had the effect of once more soothing Bongrand, who repeated, shrugging his shoulders: 'Ah! Naudet ah! Naudet. And he greatly amused the young fellows by telling them about Naudet, with whom he was well acquainted.
'Suppose she lays a place for Dubuche, while she is about it, said Claude. 'He told me he would perhaps come. But they were all down upon Dubuche, who frequented women in society. Jory said that he had seen him in a carriage with an old lady and her daughter, whose parasols he was holding on his knees. 'Where have you come from to be so late? asked Fagerolles of Gagniere.
And, indeed, Fagerolles and Jory had just laid hands on a table near by without noticing their friends, and the journalist, continuing in his gruff voice a conversation which had previously begun, remarked: 'Yes, I saw his "Dead Child"! Ah! the poor devil! what an ending!
Gagniere, intimidated, as ashamed as if he himself had been slapped, muttered: 'Too much of a success I should prefer something different. 'What a fool you are, replied Jory, in a burst of exalted conviction. 'That's what I call success. Does it matter a curse if they laugh? We have made our mark; to-morrow every paper will talk about us.
He never knew anything about chiaroscuro. Jory was about to defend the talent of Fagerolles, whom he considered to be his own creation, when Henriette solicited a little attention for the raviolis. There was a short slackening of the quarrel amid the crystalline clinking of the glasses and the light clatter of the forks.
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