"What has happened?" he asked.
"If you go up to Mademoiselle Mirah's rooms, Monsieur le Baron, you
will find Mademoiselle Heloise Brisetout there--and Monsieur Bixiou,
Monsieur Leon de Lora, Monsieur Lousteau, Monsieur de Vernisset,
Monsieur Stidmann; and ladies smelling of patchouli--holding a
housewarming."
"Then, where--where is----?"
"Mademoiselle Mirah?--I don't know that I ought to tell you."
The Baron slipped two five-franc pieces into the porter's hand.
"Well, she is now in the Rue de la Ville l'Eveque, in a fine house,
given to her, they say, by the Duc d'Herouville," replied the man in a
whisper.
Having ascertained the number of the house, Monsieur Hulot called a
_milord_ and drove to one of those pretty modern houses with double
doors, where everything, from the gaslight at the entrance, proclaims
luxury.
The Baron, in his blue cloth coat, white neckcloth, nankeen trousers,
patent leather boots, and stiffly starched shirt-frill, was supposed
to be a guest, though a late arrival, by the janitor of this new Eden.
His alacrity of manner and quick step justified this opinion.
The porter rang a bell, and a footman appeared in the hall. This man,
as new as the house, admitted the visitor, who said to him in an
imperious tone, and with a lordly gesture:
"Take in this card to Mademoiselle Josepha."
The victim mechanically looked round the room in which he found
himself--an anteroom full of choice flowers and of furniture that must
have cost twenty thousand francs.
Pages:
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119