CHAPTER I

      The little drawing-room was illuminated by the soft light of three

      lamps--tall lamps standing on Japanese vases and bearing globes upon

      which rested flexible shades of a pale blue tint. The door was hidden by

      a piece of tapestry; two walls were hung with another piece, which was

      covered with large figures. Both windows were draped with

      curtains--drawn just now--of deep red colour and heavy of fold.

      The apartment thus closed in had a homelike air, which was heightened by

      the profusion of small articles scattered over the furniture:

      photographs set in frames, lacquered boxes, old-fashioned cases, a few

      Saxon statuettes, books stitched in covers of antique stuff, such as

      were coming into fashion in the year 1883. The wreathing foliage of an

      evergreen plant showed in one corner. Close beside it, an open piano

      displayed its white keys. An English screen with coloured glass and a

      shelf on which tea-cups, books, or work might be laid, stood in folds on

      one side of the fire-place. The fire burned with a peaceful crackling

      noise which formed an accompaniment to the sound proceeding from the

      tea-pot as the latter received the caresses from the flame of its lamp

      on the low table designed for such service.

      The furniture of the somewhat crowded drawing-room presented that

      composite appearance which is characteristic of our time, together with

      the peculiarity that everything in it seemed to be almost too new. At a

      first glance, certain slight indications would have seemed to show that

      its Parisian aspect had been voluntarily aimed at. Objects were

      contrasted here and there; there were, for instance, little

      old-fashioned silver spoons; on the walls were two excellent copies of

      small religious pictures, to which memories of childhood were certainly

      linked, and which could have come only from an old country house. The

      photographs, also, witnessed, by the dress and demeanour of the

      relatives or friends represented, to altogether provincial

      relationships. The feeling of contrast would have become still more

      perceptible to one visiting the other rooms and finding everywhere

      evident tokens that the persons dwelling in them had lived but a very

      short time at Paris.

      This small-sized drawing-room belonged to a small-sized house situated

      at No. 3½, Rue de La Rochefoucauld. The lower part of this street,

      which descends in a very steep slope to the Rue Saint-Lazare, comprises

      several private houses of very varied build, and a few retired dwellings

      surrounded by gardens. The house containing the little drawing-room was

      built for an actress by a celebrated financier under the Empire, at a

      period when the Rue de