rose-colored lace, cast a feeble light over them while on
scattered pieces of furniture there burned but three other lamps, so
that the great drawing room remained in soft shadow.

Steiner was getting bored. He was describing to Fauchery an escapade of
that little Mme de Chezelles, whom he simply referred to as Leonide.
"A blackguard woman," he said, lowering his voice behind the ladies'
armchairs. Fauchery looked at her as she sat quaintly perched, in her
voluminous ball dress of pale blue satin, on the corner of her armchair.
She looked as slight and impudent as a boy, and he ended by feeling
astonished at seeing her there. People comported themselves better
at Caroline Hequet's, whose mother had arranged her house on serious
principles. Here was a perfect subject for an article. What a strange
world was this world of Paris! The most rigid circles found themselves
invaded. Evidently that silent Theophile Venot, who contented himself
by smiling and showing his ugly teeth, must have been a legacy from the
late countess. So, too, must have been such ladies of mature age as Mme
Chantereau and Mme du Joncquoy, besides four or five old gentlemen who
sat motionless in corners. The Count Muffat attracted to the house
a series of functionaries, distinguished by the immaculate personal
appearance which was at that time required of the men at the Tuileries.
Among others there was the chief clerk, who still sat solitary in the
middle of the room with his closely shorn cheeks, his vacant glance and
his coat so tight of fit that he could scarce venture to move.
Almost all the young men and certain individuals with distinguished,
aristocratic manners were the Marquis de Chouard's contribution to the
circle, he having kept touch with the Legitimist party after making his
peace with the empire on his entrance into the Council of State. There
remained Leonide de Chezelles and Steiner, an ugly little knot against
which Mme Hugon's elderly and amiable serenity stood out in strange
contrast. And Fauchery, having sketched out his article, named this last
group "Countess Sabine's little clique."

"On another occasion," continued Steiner in still lower tones, "Leonide
got her tenor down to Montauban. She was living in the Chateau de
Beaurecueil, two leagues farther off, and she used to come in daily in
a carriage and pair in order to visit him at the Lion d'Or, where he had
put up. The carriage used to wait at the door, and Leonide would sta