Chapter 2

MADAME FORESTIER

"Where does M. Forestier live?"

"Third floor on the left," said the porter pleasantly, on learning
Duroy's destination.

Georges ascended the staircase. He was somewhat embarrassed and ill-
at-ease. He had on a new suit but he was uncomfortable. He felt that
it was defective; his boots were not glossy, he had bought his shirt
that same evening at the Louvre for four francs fifty, his trousers
were too wide and betrayed their cheapness in their fit, or rather,
misfit, and his coat was too tight.

Slowly he ascended the stairs, his heart beating, his mind anxious.
Suddenly before him stood a well-dressed gentleman staring at him.
The person resembled Duroy so close that the latter retreated, then
stopped, and saw that it was his own image reflected in a pier-
glass! Not having anything but a small mirror at home, he had not
been able to see himself entirely, and had exaggerated the
imperfections of his toilette. When he saw his reflection in the
glass, he did not even recognize himself; he took himself for some
one else, for a man-of-the-world, and was really satisfied with his
general appearance. Smiling to himself, Duroy extended his hand and
expressed his astonishment, pleasure, and approbation. A door opened
on the staircase, He was afraid of being surprised and began to
ascend more rapidly, fearing that he might have been seen posing
there by some of his friend's invited guests.

On reaching the second floor, he saw another mirror, and once more
slackened his pace to look at himself. He likewise paused before the
third glass, twirled his mustache, took off his hat to arrange his
hair, and murmured half aloud, a habit of his: "Hall mirrors are
most convenient."

Then he rang the bell. The door opened almost immediately, and
before him stood a servant in a black coat, with a grave, shaven
face, so perfect in his appearance that Duroy again became confused
as he compared the cut of their garments.

The lackey asked:

"Whom shall I announce, Monsieur?" He raised a portiere and
pronounced the name.

Duroy lost his self-possession upon being ushered into a world as
yet strange to him. However, he advanced. A young, fair woman
received him alone in a large, well-lighted room. He paused,
disconcerted. Who was that smiling lady? He remembered that
Forestier was married, and the thought that the handsome blonde was
his friend's wife rendered him awkward and ill-at-ease. He stammered
out:

"Madame, I am--"

She held out her hand. "I know, Monsieur--Charles told me of your
meeting last night, and I am very glad that he asked you to dine
with us to-day."