the cool parlors devoted to people of fashion, had stepped from an
elegant carriage which had stopped on the boulevard, and was
approaching on foot along the sidewalk. My young friend, the celibate,
then appeared and offered his arm to his queen, while the husband
followed holding by the hand two little boys, beautiful as cupids. The
two lovers, more nimble than the father of the family, reached in
advance of him one of the small rooms pointed out by the attendant. In
crossing the vestibule the husband knocked up against some dandy, who
claimed that he had been jostled. Then arose a quarrel, whose
seriousness was betrayed by the sharp tones of the altercation. The
moment the dandy was about to make a gesture unworthy of a
self-respecting man, the celibate intervened, seized the dandy by the
arm, caught him off his guard, overcame and threw him to the ground; it
was magnificent. He had done the very thing the aggressor was
meditating, as he exclaimed:

"Monsieur!"

This "Monsieur" was one of the finest things I have ever heard. It was
as if the young celibate had said: "This father of a family belongs to
me; as I have carried off his honor, it is mine to defend him. I know
my duty, I am his substitute and will fight for him." The young woman
behaved superbly! Pale, and bewildered, she took the arm of her
husband, who continued his objurgations; without a word she led him
away to the carriage, together with her children. She was one of those
women of the aristocracy, who also know how to retain their dignity
and self-control in the midst of violent emotions.

"O Monsieur Adolphe!" cried the young lady as she saw her friend with
an air of gayety take his seat in the carriage.