and son, of a Louis XV clock, of a lacquered glass-case, and of a set of chairs and armchairs upholstered in crimson silk.
A great silence, composed of eager curiosity, admiration and envy, greeted Gilberte's entrance. The hostess at once made the introductions, or rather chiselled them out in elaborate phrases. Gilberte bowed.
"And my son? Where is my dear Guillaume?"
He was extracted from a small side-room.
"Dear Mme. Armand, here is my Guillaume, who is so anxious to make your acquaintance."
Guillaume de la Vaudraye was not at all bad-looking, with a very good figure; but he had a sullen expression and his manners seemed constrained. He gave a bow and vanished.
There was an attempt at general conversation, which fell very flat. People exchanged distressful looks and dared not raise their voices. Gilberte did not utter a word.
