Chapter 1 No.1

Ils valsaient avec emportement, mais avec abandon, ce qui est la grace suprême de la valse. Il y avait un peu de l'épervier qui enlève une colombe. On lui en voulait presque, à lui, de sa rapidité vertigineuse, mais on voyait bien que la jeune fille se livrait sans peur, enivrée par le tourbillon.

Et quand ce fut fini, elle lui dit, tout en se dégageant:

-Avec qui, monsieur, ai-je eu le plaisir de valser dans cette réunion selected?

-Oh! mon Dieu, mademoiselle, un nom ridicule; je ne descends ni des croisés ni de l'Oeil-de-Boeuf. Je m'appelle tout bêtement M. Arthur Dupont. Maintenant, si vous êtes curieuse de savoir ma profession, je suis auditeur au Conseil d'état, profession tout aussi ridicule que l'est mon nom.

Un physionomiste qui e?t étudié la figure de la jeune fille aurait bien vu passer un nuage sur l'enjouement passionné de la valseuse. Elle retombait sur la terre du haut de son envolement amoureux.

Arthur Dupont! porter dans le monde un nom qui n'est pas mondain, n'est-ce pas y para?tre dans un habit mal fait, avec une cravate mal mise?

La jeune fille reprit son fauteuil avec un sourire impertinent, se disant tout bas: ?Auditeur au Conseil d'état! En effet, il a de grandes oreilles.?

Parti pris, car Arthur Dupont avait de jolies oreilles. C'était d'ailleurs ce qu'on peut appeler un joli valseur, qui ne déparait ni le monde où l'on s'amuse ni le monde où l'on s'ennuie; profil à peu près correct, front lumineux, yeux vifs, bouche spirituelle.

Sa valseuse était sévère; on peut bien s'appeler Arthur Dupont sans encourir les foudres de la mode.. C'est que cette valseuse avait été élevée par sa mère à jouer les Célimènes, celles qui n'aiment que leurs robes, leur éventail et leur beauté,-même quand elles ne sont pas belles. Il est vrai que celle-ci était bien jolie: figure parisienne à donner le vertige à ceux qui n'ont pas couru les filles du demi-monde. Ce qui surtout couronnait son air impertinent, c'est qu'elle portait un grand nom, que je masquerai ici par celui de Laure de Montaignac.

Une de ses amies la félicita d'avoir si bien valsé avec un si bon valseur.

-Je ne m'en souviens pas, dit-elle d'un air distrait.

Vint une autre valse. Elle prit un mauvais valseur; elle en faillit briser son éventail. Aussi Arthur Dupont fut-il le bienvenu quand il se présenta pour la troisième valse. Elle s'avoua alors que le nom ne faisait pas l'homme. Ce fut un si joli spectacle de les voir, elle et lui, valser en tourbillonnant, que tout le monde applaudit comme si on e?t entendu chanter la Patti et jouer Sarah Bernhardt. Laure s'indigna.

-Me prend-on pour une comédienne? Je valse pour moi et non pour la galerie.

Ceci se passait à l'ambassade d'Espagne. Le lendemain, autre fête chez Mme Mackay; nouvelles valses; les oreilles parurent moins grandes, le nom moins vulgaire, tandis que le valseur parut plus entra?nant.

Cela continua toute la semaine, si bien que le bruit se répandit dans le monde que M. Arthur Dupont épousait Mlle Laure de Montaignac.

-Pourquoi pas? dit Arthur à Laure.

Mais Laure répondit à Arthur:

-Comment voulez-vous que je change mon nom contre le v?tre? Ah! si vous étiez tout à coup, par un miracle, un homme d'état, un ambassadeur, un grand poète, un grand peintre....

-Je ne suis, hélas! rien de tout cela, dit le valseur avec amertume.

Il aimait follement Laure, il ne se croyait pas à une si grande distance de l'idéal de la jeune fille.

-Encore, lui dit-elle avec un soupir, si vous aviez une écurie et un four in hands!

-Qu'à cela ne tienne, s'écria Arthur en lui saisissant la main. Vous savez que j'ai quelque fortune; dès demain j'aurai une écurie, co?te que co?te. Où la voulez-vous!

-A Chantilly, pour le plus beau rally-papers d'outre-Manche.

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