whose faces betray
their sad experience of the life the young pair are but just entering
on; and the lighter elements, present as carbonic-acid gas is in
champagne; and the envious girls, the women absorbed in wondering if
their dress is a success, the poor relations whose parsimonious
"get-up" contrasts with that of the officials in uniform; and the
greedy ones, thinking only of the supper; and the gamblers, thinking
only of cards.

There are some of every sort, rich and poor, envious and envied,
philosophers and dreamers, all grouped like the plants in a flower-bed
round the rare, choice blossom, the bride. A wedding-ball is an
epitome of the world.

At the liveliest moment of the evening Crevel led the Baron aside, and
said in a whisper, with the most natural manner possible:

"By Jove! that's a pretty woman--the little lady in pink who has
opened a racking fire on you from her eyes."

"Which?"

"The wife of that clerk you are promoting, heaven knows how!--Madame
Marneffe."

"What do you know about it?"

"Listen, Hulot; I will try to forgive you the ill you have done me if
only you will introduce me to her--I will take you to Heloise.
Everybody is asking who is that charming creature. Are you sure that
it will strike no one how and why her husband's appointment got itself
signed?--You happy rascal, she is worth a whole office.--I would serve
in her office only too gladly.--Come, cinna, let us be friends."

"Better friends than ever," said the Baron to the perfumer, "and I
promise you I will be a good fellow. Within a month you shall dine
with that little angel.--For it is an angel this time, old boy. And I
advise you, like me, to have done with the devils."

Cousin Betty, who had moved to the Rue Vanneau, into a nice little
apartment on the third floor, left the ball at ten o'clock, but came
back to see with her own eyes the two bonds bearing twelve hundred
francs interest; one of them was the property of the Countess
Steinbock, the other was in the name of Madame Hulot.

It is thus intelligible that Monsieur Crevel should have spoken to
Hulot about Madame Marneffe, as knowing what was a secret to the rest
of the world; for, as Monsieur Marneffe was away, no one but Lisbeth
Fischer, besides the Baron and Valerie, was initiated into the
mystery.

The Baron had made a blunder in giving Madame Marneffe a dress far too
magnificent for the wife of a subordinate official; other women were
jealous alike of