A ripple ran through
the audience.
"You know the Duke, they say that he is very much taken...."
"They know each other?"
"No, he has never been presented."
"No, look out for the love of the immaculate Albert," said mockingly a
beautiful woman with bold eyes, glancing toward the stall occupied by
Albert and his mother; but her eyes widened at seeing the Duke enter
to present his compliments to the Countess Styvens. A few minutes
later he was seen to go out with Count Albert. He was going to be
presented to the young artist.
Count Styvens's love was known to all Paris, as was also the respect
with which he surrounded his idol. It was also known that the young
girl did not return this love; likewise that the son of the chemist
Perliez was devoting his life to Esperance. But what would be the end
of these two gallants, both so timid, so full of silent ardour? But
now had entered upon the scene a rival possessed of beauty, of
confidence, one who had toyed lightly with women's hearts, until he
had wearied of the facile love his physical charm and wit attracted.
"That should be good sport to watch," said an old beau. "I am betting
on the Duke."
A newly married bride turned towards him, "I am betting on the young
girl."
A journalist, thin, blonde, very young, just beginning his career, had
followed the Duke and the Count behind the scenes. He accompanied them
into Esperance's little room and described what happened us follows:--
"She was holding the two cards, there in the midst of the overpowering
odour of gardenias.
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