"Yes, I understand. You are in for a fortnight of it, perhaps three weeks. There's a lot of muscles in the arm, that are as obstinate as the devil about getting well. Are you strong enough to walk to your cabriolet, leaning on me? Shall I call your groom?" "Oh! there's no need; I can walk with your assistance." "Take my arm, and don't be afraid to lean on it." Monleard succeeded, although suffering intensely, in reaching his carriage, which Cherami assisted him to enter, after putting the swords inside. Then, saluting his adversary, who thanked him again, Cherami walked away, saying: "Delighted to have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance!" XIX A SALON IN THE CHAUSSEE D'ANTIN Three weeks after the marriage of Fanny Gerbault and the brilliant Auguste Monleard, the exceedingly handsome salon of a house on Rue Neuve-des-Mathurins contained, about nine o'clock in the evening, a company in which, although small in numbers, we shall find several persons of our acquaintance. First of all, this young woman seated on a _causeuse_, beside a lovely table of Chinese lacquer, and working carelessly upon a piece of embroidery, is the newly made bride, Fanny, now Madame Monleard, in a charming gown of the sort one wears at home, to receive a few friends; she has no other head-dress than her own hair, which is arranged with much taste, the back hair being braided and wound about the head, like a crown. Marriage has not impaired the young woman's beauty; her complexion is fresh and rosy, her eyes gleam with greater animation, and about her lips plays a smile of satisfaction, almost of beatitude, except, however, when her eyes happen to fall upon a newspaper which lies on the table, open at the page containing the transactions on the Bourse, and the stock quotations. At such times, her brows contract slightly, and her lips close; but that feeling of vexation soon disappears, the charming Fanny turns her eyes elsewhere, and her face resumes its amiable and contented expression. A short distance away, another young woman is sitting at the piano, turning over the leaves of a volume of music. It is Adolphine, Fanny's sister. You know already that her hair is not so black as her sister's, and that her eyes are a little smaller, which fact does not prevent Adolphine from being a charming person; above all, there is on her face a sweet and melancholy expression, which always attracts, and arouses interest. A little taller than her sister, Adolphine has a slender, elegant figure; her walk is always graceful. Pretty women have this peculiarity in common with cats, that there is in their slightest movements an indefinable fascination; and this quality is not the attribute of the most coquettish only, but equally of those in whom grace of movement is entirely natural.