ith Constance."

"But, Felicia, my child, you can't really think of such a thing. Ah,
well! And the--the other who will be coming directly.

"I am going to write to him to stay at home, _parbleu_!"

"You unlucky being, it is too late."

"Not at all. It is striking six o'clock. The dinner was for half past
seven. You must have this sent to him quickly."

She was writing hastily at a corner of the table.

"What a strange girl, _mon Dieu! mon Dieu!_" murmured the dancer in
bewilderment, while Felicia, delighted, transfigured, was joyously
sealing her letter.

"There! my excuse is made. Headaches have not been invented for Kadour."

Then, the letter having been despatched:

"Oh, how pleased I am! What a jolly evening we shall have! Do kiss me,
Constance! It will not prevent us from doing honour to your _kuchen_,
and we shall have the pleasure of seeing you in a pretty toilette which
makes you look younger than I do."

This was more than was required to cause the dancer to forgive this new
caprice of her dear demon, and the crime of _lese-majeste_ in which she
had just been involved against her will. To treat so great a personage
so cavalierly! There was no one like her in the world--there was no one
like her. As for Paul de Gery, he no longer tried to resist, under the
spell once more of that attraction from which he had been able to fancy
himself released by absence, but which, from the moment he crossed the
threshold of the studio, had put chains on his will, delivered him over,
bound and vanquished, to the sentiment which he was quite resolved to
combat.

Evidently the dinner--a repast for a veritable _gourmet_, superintended
by the Austrian lady in its least details--had been prepared for a guest
of great mark. From the lofty Kabyle chandelier with its seven branches
of carved wood, which cast its light over the table-cloth covered with
embroidery, to the long-necked decanters holding the wines within their
strange and exquisite form, the sumptuous magnificence of the service,
the delicacy of the meats, to which edge was given by a certain
unusualness in their selection, revealed the importance of the expected
visitor, the anxiety which there had been to please him. The table was
certainly that of an artist. Little silver, but superb china, much unity
of effect, without the least attempt at matching. The old Rouen, the
pink Sevres, the Dutch glass mounted in old filigree pewter met on this
table as on a sid