oms, was another strange and resplendent
crowd. In the first two rooms there was a going and coming, a continual
passage of rustling silks up to the boudoir where the baroness sat,
sharing her attentions and cajoleries between two very distinct camps.
On one side were dark toilettes, modest in appearance, whose refinement
was appreciable only to observant eyes; on the other, a wild burst of
vivid colour, opulent figures, rich diamonds, floating scarfs, exotic
fashions, in which one felt a regret for a warmer climate, and more
luxurious life. Here were sharp taps with the fan, discreet whispers
from the few men present, some of the _bien pensant_ youth, silent,
immovable, sucking the handles of their canes, two or three figures,
upright behind the broad backs of their wives, speaking with their heads
bent forward, as if they were offering contraband goods for sale; and
in a corner the fine patriarchal beard and violet cassock of an orthodox
Armenian bishop.

The baroness, in attempting to harmonize these fashionable diversities,
to keep her rooms full until the famous interview, moved about
continually, took part in ten different conversations, raising
her harmonious and velvety voice to the twittering diapason which
distinguishes Oriental women, caressing and coaxing, the mind supple
as the body, touching on all subjects, and mixing in the requisite
proportions fashion and charity sermons, theatres and bazaars, the
dressmaker and the confessor. The mistress of the house united a great
personal charm with this acquired science--a science visible even in her
black and very simple dress, which brought out her nun-like pallor, her
houri-like eyes, her shining and plaited hair drawn back from a narrow,
child-like forehead, a forehead of which the small mouth accentuated
the mystery, hiding from the inquisitive the former _favourite's_ whole
varied past, she who had no age, who knew not herself the date of her
birth, and never remembered to have been a child.

Evidently if the absolute power of evil--rare indeed among women,
influenced as they are by their impressionable physical nature by so
many different currents--could take possession of a soul, it would be
in that of this slave, moulded by basenesses, revolted but patient, and
complete mistress of herself, like all those whom the habit of veiling
the eyes has accustomed to lie safely and unscrupulously.

At this moment no one could have suspected the anguish she suffer