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Updated: June 11, 2025
"These dinners are truly delightful." Very soon the door opened and Mesdames Forestier and De Marelle appeared, heavily veiled, surrounded by the charming mystery necessary to a rendezvous in a place so public. As Duroy greeted the former, she took him to task for not having been to see her; then she added with a smile: "Ah, you prefer Mme. de Marelle; the time passes more pleasantly with her."
Duroy was placed between Mme. de Marelle and her daughter. He was again rendered uncomfortable for fear of committing some error in the conventional management of his fork, his spoon, or his glasses, of which he had four. Nothing was said during the soup; then Norbert de Varenne asked a general question: "Have you read the Gauthier case? How droll it was!"
Scarcely had he entered his apartments when the thought of Mme. de Marelle rendered him uneasy, and he wrote to her immediately, appointing a meeting for the following day. "It will be hard," thought he. "There will be a quarrel surely." The next morning he received a telegram from Madame, informing him that she would be with him at one o'clock.
At nine o'clock, Mme. de Marelle, whom he awaited in the tiny salon, arrived. She wished to take a walk and he objected. His opposition irritated her. "I shall go alone, then. Adieu!" Seeing that the situation was becoming grave, he seized her hands and kissed them, saying: "Pardon me, darling; I am nervous and out of sorts this evening. I have been annoyed by business matters."
Mme. de Marelle said: "There are two girls who will have twenty or thirty millions each, and Suzanne is pretty in the bargain." He made no reply; his own thought coming from the lips of another irritated him. He took Clotilde to see the painting. As they crossed the conservatory he saw his wife seated near Laroche-Mathieu, both of them almost hidden behind a group of plants.
She conducted Duroy into the drawing-room, which was large, poorly furnished, and somewhat untidy. The shabby, threadbare chairs were ranged along the walls according to the servant's fancy, for there was not a trace visible of the care of a woman who loves her home. Duroy took a seat and waited some time. Then a door opened and Mme. de Marelle entered hastily, clad in a Japanese dressing-gown.
Madeleine turned her back upon him scornfully; after a moment of silence, she continued: "We shall have some company Tuesday. Mme. Laroche-Mathieu is coming here to dine with Viscountess de Percemur. Will you invite Rival and Norbert de Varenne? I shall go to Mmes. Walter and de Marelle to-morrow. Perhaps, too, we may have Mme. Rissolin."
She replied in a flute-like voice and with the manner of a woman. The clock struck three; the journalist rose. "Come often," said Mme. de Marelle; "it has been a pleasant causerie. I shall always be glad to welcome you. Why do I never meet you at the Forestiers?" "For no particular reason. I am very busy. I hope, however, that we shall meet there one of these days."
But I could not let so long a time go by without seeing you, especially after our little disagreement, and this is how I have arranged matters: Come to dinner Monday. I will introduce you to M. de Marelle, I have already spoken of you to him." Duroy hesitated in perplexity; he feared he might betray something by a word, a glance. He stammered: "No, I would rather not meet your husband." "Why not?
Forestier murmured: "There is no happiness comparable to that first clasp of the hand, when one asks: 'Do you love me? and the other replies: 'Yes, I love you." Mme. de Marelle cried gaily as she drank a glass of champagne: "I am less Platonic." Forestier, lying upon the couch, said in serious tone: "That frankness does you honor and proves you to be a practical woman.
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