ess just the same," said Germaine triumphantly.

"Evidently that was all that mattered," said Jeanne. "Well, dear, I
must be off. We've promised to run in to see the Comtesse de Grosjean.
You know the Comtesse de Grosjean?"

She spoke with an air of careless pride, and rose to go.

"Only by name. Papa used to know her husband on the Stock Exchange when
he was still called simply M. Grosjean. For his part, papa preferred to
keep his name intact," said Germaine, with quiet pride.

"Intact? That's one way of looking at it. Well, then, I'll see you in
Paris. You still intend to start to-morrow?" said Jeanne.

"Yes; to-morrow morning," said Germaine.

Jeanne and Marie slipped on their dust-coats to the accompaniment of
chattering and kissing, and went out of the room.

As she closed the door on them, Germaine turned to Sonia, and said: "I
do hate those two girls! They're such horrible snobs."

"Oh, they're good-natured enough," said Sonia.

"Good-natured? Why, you idiot, they're just bursting with envy of
me--bursting!" said Germaine. "Well, they've every reason to be," she
added confidently, surveying herself in a Venetian mirror with a petted
child's self-content.

CHAPTER II

THE COMING OF THE CHAROLAIS

Sonia went back to her table, and once more began putting wedding-cards
in their envelopes and addressing them. Germaine moved restlessly about
the room, fidgeting with the bric-a-brac on the cabinets, shifting the
pieces about, interrupting Sonia to ask whether she preferred this
arrangement or that, throwing herself into a chair to read a magazine,
getting up in a couple of minutes to straighten a picture on the wall,
throwing out all the while idle questions not worth answering.
Ninety-nine human beings would have been irritated to exasperation by
her fidgeting; Sonia endured it with a perfect patience. Five times
Germaine asked her whether she should wear her heliotrope or her pink
gown at a forthcoming dinner at Madame de Relzieres'. Five times Sonia
said, without the slightest variation in her tone, "I think you look
better in the pink." And all the while the pile of addressed envelopes
rose steadily.

Presently the door opened, and Alfred stood on the threshold.

"Two gentlemen have called to see you, miss," he said.

"Ah, the two Du Buits," cried Germaine.

"They didn't give their names, miss."

"A gentleman in the prime of life and a younger one?" said Germaine.

"Yes, miss."

"I t