Chapter 8
THE COMTESSE DE L'ESTORADE TO MADAME OCTAVE DE CAMPS April, 1839. For the last two weeks we have heard nothing more of Monsieur Dorlange. Not only has he not seen fit to renew the conversation so provokingly interrupted by Madame de la Bastie, but he has not even remembered that it was proper to leave his card at the house after a dinner. While we were breakfasting yesterday morning, I happened to make this remark (though without any sharpness), and just then our Lucas, who, as an old servant, sometimes allows himself a little familiarity, had the door swung triumphantly open to admit him, bearing something, I knew not what, wrapped in tissue paper, which he deposited with great care on the table, giving a note to Monsieur de l'Estorade at the same time. "What is that?" I said to Lucas
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