n that dim old drawing room.
Certainly it was not the count who had inveigled thither that nest
of voluptuous idleness. One might have described it as an experiment,
marking the birth of an appetite and of an enjoyment. Then he forgot
where he was, fell into brown study and in thought even harked back to
that vague confidential announcement imparted to him one evening in the
dining room of a restaurant. Impelled by a sort of sensuous curiosity,
he had always wanted an introduction into the Muffats' circle, and now
that his friend was in Mexico through all eternity, who could tell what
might happen? "We shall see," he thought. It was a folly, doubtless, but
the idea kept tormenting him; he felt himself drawn on and his animal
nature aroused. The big chair had a rumpled look--its nether cushions
had been tumbled, a fact which now amused him.

"Well, shall we be off?" asked La Faloise, mentally vowing that once
outside he would find out the name of the woman with whom people were
going to sup.

"All in good time," replied Fauchery.

But he was no longer in any hurry and excused himself on the score of
the invitation he had been commissioned to give and had as yet not found
a convenient opportunity to mention. The ladies were chatting about an
assumption of the veil, a very touching ceremony by which the whole of
Parisian society had for the last three days been greatly moved. It was
the eldest daughter of the Baronne de Fougeray, who, under stress of
an irresistible vocation, had just entered the Carmelite Convent. Mme
Chantereau, a distant cousin of the Fougerays, told how the baroness had
been obliged to take to her bed the day after the ceremony, so overdone
was she with weeping.

"I had a very good place," declared Leonide. "I found it interesting."

Nevertheless, Mme Hugon pitied the poor mother. How sad to lose a
daughter in such a way!

"I am accused of being overreligious," she said in her quiet, frank
manner, "but that does not prevent me thinking the children very cruel
who obstinately commit such suicide."

"Yes, it's a terrible thing," murmured the countess, shivering a little,
as became a chilly person, and huddling herself anew in the depths of
her big chair in front of the fire.

Then the ladies fell into a discussion. But their voices were discreetly
attuned, while light trills of laughter now and again interrupted the
gravity of their talk. The two lamps on the chimney piece, which had
shades of