"I beg pardon, madame," said he. "Is Wenceslas gone out already?"

"He is at the studio."

"I came to talk over the work with him."

"I will send for him," said Hortense, offering Stidmann a chair.

Thanking Heaven for this piece of luck, Hortense was glad to detain
Stidmann to ask some questions about the evening before. Stidmann
bowed in acknowledgment of her kindness. The Countess Steinbock rang;
the cook appeared, and was desired to go at once and fetch her master
from the studio.

"You had an amusing dinner last night?" said Hortense. "Wenceslas did
not come in till past one in the morning."

"Amusing? not exactly," replied the artist, who had intended to
fascinate Madame Marneffe. "Society is not very amusing unless one is
interested in it. That little Madame Marneffe is clever, but a great
flirt."

"And what did Wenceslas think of her?" asked poor Hortense, trying to
keep calm. "He said nothing about her to me."

"I will only say one thing," said Stidmann, "and that is, that I think
her a very dangerous woman."

Hortense turned as pale as a woman after childbirth.