Next day I feared, or rather I hoped, that Irene would not appear at her accustomed hour, or that she might come perhaps without her bouquet. I would have considered this change as a mark of resentment or jealousy on the part of Madame de Fersen; but Irene and the bouquet of roses appeared as usual. Piqued by this indifference, and wishing to ascertain if it were real; desirous, also, of completely misleading public opinion, I continued to pay the most marked attentions to Madame de V----. Delighted to have found a means of annoying the minister, and of keeping him constantly agitated and on the watch, Madame de V---- encouraged me with all her might. She called this exhibition of cruel coquetry "heaping fuel upon the fire." Now, at the risk of being taken for a log (as Pluvier would have said), I so skilfully fed the devouring jealousy of the minister that, after eight or ten days of this kind of courting, Madame de V---- and I found ourselves horribly compromised; and it was generally recognised and taken for granted that the reign, or rather the bondage, of the minister was at an end. I became aware of the gravity of these absurd rumours by the friendly, courteous, and gracious tone of the minister, who was too much a man of the world to appear cold or sulky towards his supposed rival. This discovery enlightened me as to the folly of my conduct, which not only might wound Madame de Fersen, if she loved me, but might lower me irreparably in her estimation. Instinctively I felt that I had pushed things too far. These fears were increased by a singular circumstance. One evening at a concert at Lord P----'s, I had been for some time chatting with Madame de V----. We were in a small parlour where only a few persons were gathered. Little by little, these adjourned to the tea-room, leaving Madame de V---- and myself perfectly alone. I was preoccupied from a very natural cause; Madame de V---- had just informed me of the receipt of a letter announcing the arrival of Madame de Pënâfiel in Rome. While talking, I happened to look at a mirror, reflecting the door of the salon. What was my amazement when I saw Madame de Fersen, whose eyes were fastened on me with a most sorrowful look! I quickly rose, but she disappeared. I awaited the morrow with anxiety. Irene came, as usual, with her bouquet of roses, and told me her mother was going that night to the Variétés. I made her twice repeat to me this information, for the choice of the theatre seemed extraordinary, but, reflecting on the prince's taste for vaudevilles, I explained it to myself. I sent to secure a stall, and in the evening went to that theatre. CHAPTER XVIII THE BEAR AND THE PACHA Among other plays at the Variétés that evening, they were giving "The Bear and the Pacha." This was one of M. de Fersen's triumphs at Constantinople, where he had taken, with great success, the part of Schaabaham, and he was most eager to see Brunet playing the same part.