Mélanie Short Story

Étienne, the butler, finally announced that dinner was served. We put down our drinks, and cheered the news which brought us closer to the long awaited moment to savor the “saumon a la mayonnaise’, specialty of Mélanie la cuisinière. In the middle of the agitation, I was approached by the Baron de Valfort to escort Dame Irène Chaboix. I was glad to do it. I went over to the Diva right away, and offered her my arm, which she accepted with the grandiloquence of stage actors. Like most old artists, she had kept a coquetry which had made her cover her wizened face with a thick and flamboyant rouge. She was wearing a dress with bouffant elements, and fabric windings which gave volume to her overly perfumed presence. Although she was not young
We were all now, well acquainted with each other, and the conversation was rolling, when Dame Chaboix suddenly found the moment opportune- perhaps in order to add to the conversation, or, most probably because she seemed very fond of the “petite Juliette”-, to ask her how she was doing with her studies. The young girl was not shy, and, notwithstanding the fact that studies are not the most favorite subject for a child her age, I expected her to answer straightforwardly. Which, she did. However, she looked so eager to reply, that I could not fathom her enthusiasm about such a dull topic. All my instincts woke up! Her excitement was either a childish act, or was triggered by some very pleasant and very real event which must have taken place during the course of the past week’s studies. As for Dame Chaboix, encouraged by the girl’s behavior, she reiterated her
It was a detail that I had caught from the corner of my eye. It was insignificant, as insignificant as a swift motion, a discreet gesture, perhaps a flash, or a reflex… It was, however, a detail which importance- I was sure of it-, was related to the scene which had just taken place. What it was, exactly, had escaped my mind! I had been distracted by the sudden display of temper of Simone de Valfort, and despite all the efforts that I made to recall whatever I had subliminally seen, I was failing to bring it back to the front of my memory. The timely entry of Mélanie, finally made me give up with glee, my fruitless attempt, and above all, prevented the situation to become a crisis. The old servant was proudly carrying the “saumon à la mayonnaise” on an oblong and shiny platter. The Baroness de Valfort jumped on that opportunity to make amends by applauding when the cuisinière put down the platter in the center of the table. This distraction helped soothe the tension which had reigned in the room, and Henri, the Baron’s brother, rushed to say with a feigned