"You go in first, and tell
her you have brought me home. Be very careful; mama is very nervous." M.
Cambray softly opened the door, and halted, amazed, on the threshold.
The room into which he had ventured unannounced was a magnificent salon,
filled with a brilliant company. Evidently the countess was holding a
matinee.
The assembled company were in full toilet. The women, who were chiefly
young and handsome, were clad in the modest fashion of that day, which
draped the shoulders and bust with embroidered kerchiefs, with priceless
lace adorning their gowns and genuine pearls twined among their tresses.
The men also wore full dress: Hungarian trousers, short-waisted coat,
with large, bright metal buttons, opening over an embroidered waistcoat.
Surrounded by her guests, the mistress of the house, an ideal of beauty,
Cythera herself, was seated at the harpsichord, her neck and shoulders
hidden by her wonderfully beautiful golden hair. When M. Cambray, in his
plain brown coat buttoned to the chin, with black gloves and dull
buckle-shoes, appeared in the doorway of the boudoir, which was not open
to all the world, every eye was turned in surprise toward him.
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