Delphine. As we sat at table, G. was at the right, I at the left of our
hostess. Next G. sat Delphine; below her, the Baron; so that we were
nearly _vis-a-vis_. I was now as fully convinced that Mme. de St. Cyr's
cellar was the one, as the day before I had been that the other was;
I longed to reach it. Hay had given the stone to a butler--doubtless
this--the moment of its theft; but, not being aware of Mme. de St.
Cyr's previous share in the adventure, had probably not afforded her
another. And thus I concluded her to be ignorant of the game we were
about to play; and I imagined, with the interest that one carries into a
romance, the little preliminary scene between the Baron and Madame that
must have already taken place, being charmed by the cheerfulness with
which she endured the loss of the promised reward.

As the Baron entered the dining-room. I saw him withdraw his glove, and
move the jewelled hand across his hair while passing the solemn butler,
who gave it a quick recognition;--the next moment we were seated. It was
a dinner _à la Russe_; that is, only wines were on the table, clustered
around a central ornament,--a bunch of tall silver rushes and
flag-leaves, on whose airy tip danced _fleurs-de-lis_ of frosted silver,
a design of Delphine's,--the dishes being on side-tables, from which
the guests were served as they signified their choice of the variety on
their cards. Our number not being large, and the custom so informal,
rendered it pleasant.

I had just finished my oysters and was pouring out a glass of Chablis,
when another plate was set before the Baron.

"His Excellency has no salt," murmured the butler,--at the same time
placing one beside him. A glance, at entrance, had taught me that most
of the service was uniform; this dainty little _salière_ I had noticed