In vain did he try to seem cold to her; his heart thawed in spite of himself.  She held him so charmingly by the lapel of his coat, touching his cheek with the tip end of an aigrette which set so charmingly on the top of the most becoming of fur caps which she wore.  Her hair was turned up now, showing her beautiful neck, and he could see little rebellious hairs curling at their own will over her pure, soft skin, while she, bending forward, was engaged in his service.  He admired, too, her slender waist, only recently subjected to the restraint of a corset.  He forgave her on the spot.  At this moment a man with brown hair, tall, elegant, and with his moustache turned up at the ends, after the old fashion of the Valois, revived recently, came hurriedly up to the table of Madame de Nailles.  Fred felt that that inimitable moustache reduced his not yet abundant beard to nothing.

“Mademoiselle Jacqueline,” said the newcomer, “Madame de Villegry has sent me to beg you to help her at the buffet.  She can not keep pace with her customers, and is asking for volunteers.”

All this was uttered with a familiar assurance which greatly shocked the young naval man.

“You permit me, Madame?”

The Baroness bowed with a smile, which said, had he chosen to interpret it, “I give you permission to carry her off now—­and forever, if you wish it.”

At that moment she was placing in the half-unwilling arms of Hubert Marien an enormous rubber balloon and a jumping-jack, in return for five Louis which he had laid humbly on her table.  But Jacqueline had not waited for her stepmother’s permission; she let herself be borne off radiant on the arm of the important personage who had come for her, while Colette, who perhaps had remarked the substitution for her two roses, whispered in Fred’s ear, in atone of great significance “Monsieur de Cymier.”

The poor fellow started, like a man suddenly awakened from a happy dream to face the most unwelcome of realities.  Impelled by that natural longing, that we all have, to know the worst, he went toward the buffet, affecting a calmness which it cost him a great effort to maintain.  As he went along he mechanically gave money to each of the ladies whom he knew, moving off without waiting for their thanks or stopping to choose anything from their tables.  He seemed to feel the floor rock under his feet, as if he had been walking the deck of a vessel.  At last he reached a recess decorated with palms, where, in a robe worthy of ‘Peau d’Ane’ in the story, and absolutely a novelty in the world of fashions robe all embroidered with gold and rubies, which glittered with every movement made by the wearer—­Madame de Villegry was pouring out Russian tea and Spanish chocolate and Turkish coffee, while all kinds of deceitful promises of favor shone in her eyes, which wore a certain tenderness expressive of her interest in charity.  A party of young nymphs formed the court of this fair goddess,