at last jeanne said, “where is this carriage taking me to, cardinal?”
“back to your own house, countess.”
“my house—in the faubourg?”
“yes, countess. a very small house to contain so many charms.”
they soon stopped. jeanne alighted, and he was preparing to follow her, but she stopped him, and said, “it is very late, cardinal.”
“adieu, then,” said he; and he drove away, absorbed with the scene at the ball.
jeanne entered alone into her new house. six lackeys waited for her in the hall, and she looked at them as calmly as though she had been used to it all her life.
“where are my femmes de chambre?” said she.
one of the men advanced respectfully.
“two women wait for madame in her room.”
“call them.” the valet obeyed.
“where do you usually sleep?” said jeanne to them, when they entered.
“we have no place as yet,” said one of them; “we can sleep wherever madame pleases.”
“where are the keys?”
“here, madame.”
“well, for this night you shall sleep out of the house.”
the women looked at her in surprise.
“you have some place to go to?” said jeanne.
“certainly, madame; but it is late. still, if madame wishes——”
“and these men can accompany you,” she continued, dismissing the valets also, who seemed rather pleased.
“when shall we return?” asked one of them.
“to-morrow at noon.”
they seemed more astonished than ever, but jeanne looked so imperious that they did not speak.
“is there any one else here?” she asked.
“no one, madame. it is impossible for madame to remain like this; surely you must have some one here.”
“i want no one.”
“the house might take fire; madame might be ill.”
“go, all of you,” said jeanne; “and take this,” added she, giving them money from her purse.
they all thanked her, and disappeared, saying to each other that they had found a strange mistress.
jeanne then locked the doors and said triumphantly, “now i am alone here, in my own house.” she now commenced an examination, admiring each thing individually. the ground-floor contained a bath-room, dining-room, three drawing-rooms, and two morning-rooms. the furniture of these rooms was handsome, though not new. it pleased jeanne better than if it had been furnished expressly for her. all the rich antiques disdained by fashionable ladies, the marvelous pieces of carved ebony, the glass lusters, the gothic clocks; chefs-d’œuvre of carving and enamel, the screens with embroidered chinese figures, and the immense vases, threw jeanne into indescribable raptures. here on a chimney-piece two gilded tritons were bearing branches of coral, upon which were hung jeweled fruits. in another place, on a gilded console table, was an enormous elephant, with sapphires hanging from his ears, supporting a tower filled with little bottles of scent. books in gilt bindings were on rosewood shelves. one room was hung with gobelin tapestry, and furnished in gray and gold; another, paneled in paintings by vernet. the small rooms contained pictures. the whole was evidently the collection of years.
jeanne examined it all with delight. then, as her domino was inconvenient, she went into her room to put on a dressing-gown of wadded silk; and, secure of meeting no one, she wandered from room to room, continuing her examination, till at last, her light nearly exhausted, she returned to her bedroom, which was hung with embroidered blue satin.
she had seen everything, and admired everything: there only remained herself to be admired; and she thought, as she undressed before the long mirror, that she was not the object least worthy of admiration in the place. at last, wearied out with pleasurable excitement, she went to bed, and soon sank to sleep.
