Giraud was pointing to Madame Ernest. I did not reply, and I tried to drag Firmin away in another direction; but he dropped my arm and walked up to Giraud, saying: “What have you heard about that lady? I am very fond of gossip myself.” “They say that she isn’t married; that she’s the mistress of a young author who is here, and who introduces her everywhere as his wife.” In vain I looked at Giraud and made signs to him; he was not looking at me, and he continued to speak to Firmin: “People don’t like it because Leberger invited her to his ball, and they say that she doesn’t amount to much; that she has been an embroiderer, or a lacemaker; someone even declared that she used to be in the ballet at one of the boulevard theatres.” “Monsieur,” said Firmin, seizing Giraud’s arm and squeezing it hard, “pray go to all those people who have made such remarks, and tell them from me that they are blackguards; that, although that young woman is not married, she is none the less worthy of esteem; that she is a thousand times more respectable than many lawful wives; and should I say to the ladies here, in the words of the Scriptures: ‘Let her who is without sin among you cast the first stone,’ I fancy, monsieur, that even your wife herself would not dare to stone my poor Marguerite.” Giraud was sorely embarrassed; he realized what a fool he had made of himself, and he confounded himself in apologies. But Ernest absolutely insisted that he should point out the people who had made the remarks, and the business agent hastened to designate Bélan. Thereupon Ernest started toward the little man; I tried in vain to hold him back; he would not listen to me. I followed him, to try to adjust the affair. Bélan was in the act of handing a glass of orgeat to his wife. Ernest brushed roughly against him, and jostled him so that the glass and its contents fell upon the superb Armide’s dress. She uttered an exclamation; her mother uttered two. Bélan turned to Ernest and murmured: “What the deuce! be careful what you are doing!” Ernest simply smiled and said: “That was very unlucky!” Tall Armide saw the smile, and said to her husband: “That man did it on purpose; he doesn’t even condescend to deny it.” And the mother-in-law added: “I trust, Monsieur de Bélan, that this is not the end of this business, and that my daughter’s dress will not be ruined with impunity. This gentleman must apologize,--he must!” Bélan had become much less belligerent since he was married; however, he left his wife and walked up to Ernest, who had halted a few steps away. “Monsieur, you have spoiled my wife’s dress, and I am surprised that you do not at least apologize, like a man of breeding.” “Monsieur, you and your wife have tried to destroy my wife’s reputation; a dress may be washed, but slanderous words are not to be effaced for a long while; so that it is for you, monsieur, to apologize to me.” Bélan was speechless. I made haste to intervene between them.