aste, enhanced this sort of dais, under which the
Duchess reclined like a Greek statue. The dark hue of the velvet gave
relief to every fascinating charm. A subdued light, friendly to her
beauty, fell like a reflection rather than a direct illumination. A few
rare flowers raised their perfumed heads from costly Sevres vases. At
the moment when this picture was presented to Augustine's astonished
eyes, she was approaching so noiselessly that she caught a glance from
those of the enchantress. This look seemed to say to some one whom
Augustine did not at first perceive, "Stay; you will see a pretty woman,
and make her visit seem less of a bore."

On seeing Augustine, the Duchess rose and made her sit down by her.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, madame?" she said with
a most gracious smile.

"Why all the falseness?" thought Augustine, replying only with a bow.

Her silence was compulsory. The young woman saw before her a superfluous
witness of the scene. This personage was, of all the Colonels in the
army, the youngest, the most fashionable, and the finest man. His face,
full of life and youth, but already expressive, was further enhanced by
a small moustache twirled up into points, and as black as jet, by a full
imperial, by whiskers carefully combed, and a forest of black hair in
some disorder. He was whisking a riding whip with an air of ease and
freedom which suited his self-satisfied expression and the elegance of
his dress; the ribbons attached to his button-hole were carelessly tied,
and he seemed to pride himself much more on his smart appearance than
on his courage. Augustine looked at the Duchesse de Carigliano, and
indicated the Colonel by a sidelong glance. All its mute appeal was
understood.

"Good-bye, then, Monsieur d'Aiglemont, we shall meet in the Bois de
Boulogne."

These words were spoken by the siren as though they were the result of
an agreement made before Augustine's arrival, and she winged them with a
threatening look that the officer deserved perhaps for the admiration he
showed in gazing at the modest flower, which contrasted so well with the
haughty Duchess. The young fop bowed in silence, turned on the heels
of his boots, and gracefully quitted the boudoir. At this instant,
Augustine, watching her rival, whose eyes seemed to follow the brilliant
officer, detected in that glance a sentiment of which the transient
expression is known to every woman. She perceived with the d