"What else?" said Calyste, watching Beatrix and Conti, who were now
coming towards them; but he listened no longer to Camille's words.

In talking with Conti, Camille had held herself prudently on the
defensive; she had betrayed neither Calyste's secret nor that of
Beatrix. The great artist was capable of treachery to every one, and
Mademoiselle des Touches warned Calyste to distrust him.

"My dear friend," she said, "this is by far the most critical moment
for you. You need caution and a sort of cleverness you do not possess;
I am afraid you will let yourself be tricked by the most wily man I
have ever known, and I can do nothing to help you."

The bell announced dinner. Conti offered his arm to Camille; Calyste
gave his to Beatrix. Camille drew back to let the marquise pass, but
the latter had found a moment in which to look at Calyste, and impress
upon him, by putting her finger on her lips, the absolute necessity of
discretion.

Conti was extremely gay during the dinner; perhaps this was only one
way of probing Madame de Rochefide, who played her part extremely ill.
If her conduct had been mere coquetry, she might have deceived even
Conti; but her new love was real, and it betrayed her. The wily
musician, far from adding to her embarrassment, pretended not to have
perceived it. At dessert, he brought the conversation round to women,
and lauded the nobility of their sentiments. Many a woman, he said,
who might have been willing to abandon a man in prosperity, would
sacrifice all to him in misfortune. Women had the advantage over men
in constancy; nothing ever detached them from their first lover, to