morning, among his letters at the office, an envelope
in reply, containing the card of Madame Walter, who "thanked Monsieur
George Duroy, and was at home every Saturday."

On the following Saturday he called. Monsieur Walter occupied, on the
Boulevard Malesherbes, a double house, which belonged to him, and of
which a part was let off, in the economical way of practical people. A
single doorkeeper, quartered between the two carriage entrances, opened
the door for both landlord and tenant, and imparted to each of the
entrances an air of wealth by his get-up like a beadle, his big calves
in white stockings, and his coat with gilt buttons and scarlet facings.
The reception-rooms were on the first floor, preceded by an ante-room
hung with tapestry, and shut in by curtains over the doorways. Two
footmen were dozing on benches. One of them took Duroy's overcoat and
the other relieved him of his cane, opened the door, advanced a few
steps in front of the visitor, and then drawing aside, let him pass,
calling out his name, into an empty room.

The young fellow, somewhat embarrassed, looked round on all sides when
he perceived in a glass some people sitting down who seemed very far
off. He was at sea at first as to the direction in which they were, the
mirror having deceived his eyes. Then he passed through two empty
drawing-rooms and reached a small boudoir hung with blue silk, where
four ladies were chatting round a table bearing cups of tea. Despite the
assurance he had acquired in course of his Parisian life, and above all
in his career as a reporter, which constantly brought him into contact
with important personages, Duroy felt somewhat intimidated by the get-up
of the entrance and the passage through the deserted drawing-room. He
stammered: "Madame, I have ventured," as his eyes sought the mistress of
the house.

She held out her hand, which he took with a bow, and having remarked:
"You are very kind sir, to call and see me," she pointed to a chair, in
seeking to sit down in which he almost fell, having thought it much
higher.

They had become silent. One of the ladies began to talk again. It was a
question of the frost, which was becoming sharper, though not enough,
however, to check the epidemic of typhoid fever, nor to allow skating.
Every one gave her opinion on this advent of frost in Paris, then they
expressed their preference for the different seasons with all the
trivial reasons that lie about in people's mind