had only a necklace and bracelets of jet to heighten the fresh whiteness
of her complexion.

They had said Tonton would die of jealousy at our rich toilets. Nothing of
the sort. She came to us with her habitual grace, kissed us, ignoring
etiquette and the big eyes made by the Countess Madelaine. Without an
allusion to our dress or seeming to see it, she sat down between us, told
us persons' names, pointed out the beauty of this one, the pretty dress of
that one, always admiring, never criticising. She knew well she was
without a rival.

I amused myself watching Tréville and Neville out of the corner of my
eyes. Tréville seemed to see but one woman in the room. He danced several
times, always with her, and when he did not dance he went aside, spoke
with no one, but followed with his glances her whom he seemed to adore. He
made no attempt to hide his adoration; it shone from his eyes: his every
movement was full of it. When she returned to her place, he came, remained
before her chair, leaned towards her, listened with ravished ear, and
rarely sat down by her side. It was good to watch Neville. His eyes
flashed with anger, his fists fidgeted, and more than once I saw him quit
the hall, no doubt to make a quarrel with his rival. Not once did he come
near Tonton! Not once did he dance with her! But he danced with all the
young girls in the room and pretended to be very gay. While I was dancing
with him I said:

"How pretty Tonton is this evening!" And I understood the spite that made
him reply:

"Ah! mademoiselle, her beauty is certainly not to be compared with yours."