She was magnificently dressed: an emerald necklace gleamed on her breast, a very handsome comb and long earrings added to the splendor of her costume. She entered the room with downcast eyes, assuming a modest air almost exactly like that which deceived me the first time I saw her. That woman was able to do whatever she chose with her face. "Now," thought I, "let us see how she will endure a sight of me." She raised her eyes to the company at last; instantly a concert of praise and compliments burst forth. She was in truth very fair to look upon, and the gentlemen vied with one another in their efforts to find words enthusiastic enough to depict their ecstasy and enchantment. How happy she was at that moment! there was a flush on her brow, but it was a flush of pleasure, of pride, not of modesty. "But where's my friend?" cried Raymond, looking about for me. He spied me in the corner from which I was observing the scene, ran to me, seized my hand, and dragged me toward Caroline. "Come on," he said; "come, I say, and see the Three Graces! She's Hebe, she's Venus, she's Psyche, she's----" Raymond was interrupted by a cry from Caroline. She glanced at me as I began to pay my respects to her, congratulating Monsieur de Grandmaison. She turned pale, stammered, tried to recover herself; but the shock was too sharp; she tottered, and fell upon her latest adorer. He, being then occupied in responding to his friends' congratulations, received the young woman's weight as he was about to take a pinch of snuff, to help him to make some witty response. The poor man was not strong enough to resist that unexpected blow; his left leg was always out of line, and Caroline's weight causing the right one to bend, Monsieur de Grandmaison fell heavily, trying to grasp what was nearest him, which happened to be Monsieur Rocambolle's thigh. He clung to that, which he supposed to be an integral part of the person, but his hand grasped nothing but the cotton wool with which the old libertine stuffed his breeches in order to improve his shape. The broadcloth split and tore, and Monsieur Rocambolle's fictitious thigh remained in Monsieur de Grandmaison's hand.