Baron Trigaults Vengeance | Page 7

dresses fitted on by a man? I says that it's indecent. I'm only a servant, but----"
"Nonsense, it's the fashion. Besides, monsieur does not care about that. A man who----"
He stopped short; in fact, the others had motioned him to be silent. The baron was surrounded by exceptional servants, and the presence of a stranger acted as a restraint upon them. For this reason, one of them, after asking Pascal for his card, opened a door and ushered him into a small room, saying: "I will go and inform the baron. Please wait here."
"Here," as he called it, was a sort of smoking-room hung with cashmere of fantastic design and gorgeous hues, and encircled by a low, cushioned divan, covered with the same material. A profusion of rare and costly objects was to be seen on all sides, armor, statuary, pictures, and richly ornamented weapons. But Pascal, already amazed by the conversation of the servants, did not think of examining these objects of virtu. Through a partially open doorway, directly opposite the one he had entered by, came the sound of loud voices in excited conversation. Baron Trigault, the baroness, and the famous Van Klopen were evidently in the adjoining room. It was a woman, the baroness, who was speaking, and the quivering of her clear and somewhat shrill voice betrayed a violent irritation, which was only restrained with the greatest difficulty. "It is hard for the wife of one of the richest men in Paris to see a bill for absolute necessities disputed in this style," she was saying.
A man's voice, with a strong Teutonic accent, the voice of Van Klopen, the Hollander, caught up the refrain. "Yes, strict necessities, one can swear to that. And if, before flying into a passion, Monsieur le Baron had taken the trouble to glance over my little bill, he would have seen----"
"No more! You bore me to death. Besides I haven't time to listen to your nonsense; they are waiting for me to play a game of whist at the club."
This time it was the master of the house, Baron Trigault, who spoke, and Pascal recognized his voice instantly.
"If monsieur would only allow me to read the items. It will take but a moment," rejoined Van Klopen. And as if he had construed the oath that answered him as an exclamation of assent, he began: "In June, a Hungarian costume with jacket and sash, two train dresses with upper skirts and trimmings of lace, a Medicis polonaise, a jockey costume, a walking costume, a riding-habit, two morning-dresses, a Velleda costume, an evening dress."
"I was obliged to attend the races very frequently during the month of June," remarked the baroness.
But the illustrious adorner of female loveliness had already resumed his reading. "In July we have: two morning-jackets, one promenade costume, one sailor suit, one Watteau shepherdess costume, one ordinary bathing-suit, with material for parasol and shoes to match, one Pompadour bathing-suit, one dressing-gown, one close-fitting Medicis mantle, two opera cloaks----"
"And I was certainly not the most elegantly attired of the ladies at Trouville, where I spent the month of July," interrupted the baroness.
"There are but few entries in the month of August," continued Van Klopen. "We have: a morning-dress, a travelling-dress, with trimmings----" And he went on and on, gasping for breath, rattling off the ridiculous names which he gave to his "creations," and interrupted every now and then by the blow of a clinched fist on the table, or by a savage oath.
Pascal stood in the smoking-room, motionless with astonishment. He did not know what surprised him the most, Van Klopen's impudence in daring to read such a bill, the foolishness of the woman who had ordered all these things, or the patience of the husband who was undoubtedly going to pay for them. At last, after what seemed an interminable enumeration, Van Klopen exclaimed: "And that's all!"
"Yes, that's all," repeated the baroness, like an echo.
"That's all!" exclaimed the baron--"that's all! That is to say, in four months, at least seven hundred yards of silk, velvet, satin, and muslin, have been put on this woman's back!"
"The dresses of the present day require a great deal of material. Monsieur le Baron will understand that flounces, puffs, and ruches----"
"Naturally! Total, twenty-seven thousand francs!"
"Excuse me! Twenty-seven thousand nine hundred and thirty-three francs, ninety centimes."
"Call it twenty-eight thousand francs then. Ah, well, M. Van Klopen, if you are ever paid for this rubbish it won't be by me."
If Van Klopen was expecting this denouement, Pascal wasn't; in fact, he was so startled, that an exclamation escaped him which would have betrayed his presence under almost any other circumstances. What amazed him most was the baron's perfect calmness, following, as it did, such a fit of furious passion, violent enough even to be heard in the vestibule. "Either