"But who do you wish to see?" asked M. Bouffard, awakening from his stupor.
"Mlle. Herminie," said the tallest lackey, with an evident respect for the person his master was about to visit.
"Yes, Mlle. Herminie," replied the other.
"The small door to the left, under the archway," said the portress, more and more amazed. "I'll open the doors at once."
"A prince and a duchess, visiting my pianist!" gasped M. Bouffard.
Soon came another knocking, much more gentle this time, and another footman in brown livery, with blue trimmings, came to complete the assemblage of lackeys, exclaiming:
"Is everybody stone-deaf here? The doors, why don't you open the doors, I say?"
M. Bouffard, desperate now, resolved to play a heroic part, so, while the portress was tidying herself up a little so as to usher in Herminie's aristocratic visitors, the ex-grocer rushed out to open the double doors of the porte-cochere. This menial task performed, he had barely time to draw back close to the wall to prevent himself from being crushed by the broad breasts of two superb gray horses attached to an elegant dark blue coupe that dashed in, and, skilfully guided by a tall coachman, stopped short at a sign from one of the footmen, who had stationed himself at Herminie's door.
A hunchback and a stout man, both dressed in black, alighted from this handsome equipage, and Madame Moufflon made haste to announce to M.
Bouffard's pianist:
"M. le Prince Duc de Haut-Martel."
"M. Leroi, notary."
The first carriage had hardly left the door before a handsome landau drove up.
Two ladies and a young man descended from this vehicle, and Madame Moufflon, who thought she must be dreaming, announced to M. Bouffard's pianist:
"Madame la Duchesse de Senneterre."
"Mlle. Berthe de Senneterre."
"M. le Duc de Senneterre."
An elegant brougham having followed these carriages, another guest alighted, and Madame Moufflon announced:
"M. le Baron de la Rochaigue."
A few minutes afterwards the portress ushered into Mlle. Herminie's apartment the following less pretentious personages:
"Commander Bernard."
"M. Olivier Raymond."
"Mlle. Ernestine Vert-Puis."
"Madame Laine."
These last two persons had come in a modest cab.
These duties performed, Madame Moufflon rejoined her employer, who was pacing vehemently to and fro, under the porte-cochere,--his forehead covered with big drops of sweat, so intense was his excitement,--saying to himself:
"_Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!_ What can these great lords and ladies be doing in my pianist's room? What do you suppose all this means, Mother Moufflon?"
"I don't know what to think,--my brain fairly whirls. I see stars, and I'm so afraid of a stroke of apoplexy, I'm going to put my head under the water spigot to cool it off."
"I have it!" suddenly exclaimed the ex-grocer, triumphantly. "My pianist is giving a concert."
"I don't think so, for the last time I looked in I saw the ladies had laid their wraps on the piano, which was closed, and the entire company was standing in a row, while a notary--"
"What notary? Is there a notary here?"
"Yes, monsieur, the tall, stout man,--with a stomach twice as big as yours. I announced him as 'M. Leroi, notary.' Well, he was seated at Mlle. Herminie's table, with a pile of papers in front of him, and a candle on each side--like a juggler."
"Perhaps he is one," exclaimed M. Bouffard, "or, possibly, a fortune teller."
"But, as I told you just now, I announced him as a notary."
"True, true! Oh, well, I will stay awhile, and perhaps I shall be able to find out something when they leave."
Such a brilliant assemblage had never honoured Herminie's modest little home before, and the young girl experienced the liveliest satisfaction and happiness at this unexpected denouement of a love that had seemed so hopeless. But the pleasure of welcoming Mlle. Berthe de Senneterre, Gerald's sister, and the eldest daughter of the duchess, filled her cup of joy to overflowing.
"Ah, madame," Herminie had said to the duchess, in a voice trembling with emotion,--for she appreciated the delicacy of this proceeding on the part of Gerald's mother, and felt that it was intended to serve as some reparation for the cruel words of the evening before,--"ah, madame, if I had been asked my most earnest desire, it would have been to see Mlle. de Senneterre here,--that is, if I had dared to hope for the honour."
"Berthe takes too deep an interest in her brother's happiness not to wish to be the first to welcome her new sister-in-law," replied Madame de Senneterre, in gracious, even affectionate tones.
Then Mlle. de Senneterre, a charming girl, for she strongly resembled Gerald both in appearance and character, had said to Herminie, with delightful affability:
"Yes, mademoiselle, I was anxious to be the first to thank you, for my brother is so happy, and I feel and know that he has a thousand reasons to be."
"I wish I were more worthy to offer M. de Senneterre the only family happiness he can lack," replied Herminie, gently.
And while the two young girls continued this interchange of affectionate words, thus prolonging a little scene in which Herminie gave convincing proof of perfect tact, rare distinction of manner, and a modest and graceful dignity, the hunchback, more and more charmed with his adopted daughter, said, in a whispered aside to Madame de Senneterre:
"Tell me frankly; do you think it would be possible for any person to do better under the circumstances?"
"It is really wonderful. She has an air of the most perfect breeding, combined with marvellous tact, and an apparent familiarity with all the rules and customs of the very best society. In short, she is a born duchess; that is all there is about it."
"And what do you think of Mlle. de Beaumesnil's betrothed,--Gerald's friend and former comrade?"
"You are subjecting me to a hard test, marquis," replied Madame de Senneterre, smothering a sigh, "but I am forced to admit that he is a charming and exceedingly distinguished-looking man, and that I can see little, if any, difference between this gentleman and a member of our own set in manner and bearing. It seems inconceivable to me that people of this class can be so polished and refined. Ah, marquis, marquis, what are we coming to?"
"We are coming to the signing of the contracts, my dear duchess; but I beg of you," added the hunchback, in a low tone, "not a word that would lead Gerald's friend to suppose that that simply dressed girl is Mlle.
de Beaumesnil."
"You need feel no fears on that score, marquis. Incomprehensible as this mystery seems to me, I shall not say a word. Have I not maintained the strictest secrecy on the subject of Herminie's adoption? My son is still ignorant of your intentions, but all these mysteries will necessarily be cleared up when the marriage contracts are read."
"I will attend to that, my dear duchess," replied the hunchback. "All I ask of you is that you will keep the secret until I authorise you to speak."
"Oh, I promise you I will do that."