one evening
after she had lavished the most energetic promises of fidelity on Muffat
Nana kept the Count Xavier de Vandeuvres for the night. For the last
fortnight he had been paying her assiduous court, visiting her and
sending presents of flowers, and now she gave way not so much out of
sudden infatuation as to prove that she was a free woman. The idea of
gain followed later when, the day after, Vandeuvres helped her to pay a
bill which she did not wish to mention to the other man. From Vandeuvres
she would certainly derive from eight to ten thousand francs a month,
and this would prove very useful as pocket money. In those days he was
finishing the last of his fortune in an access of burning, feverish
folly. His horses and Lucy had devoured three of his farms, and at one
gulp Nana was going to swallow his last chateau, near Amiens. He seemed
in a hurry to sweep everything away, down to the ruins of the old tower
built by a Vandeuvres under Philip Augustus. He was mad for ruin and
thought it a great thing to leave the last golden bezants of his coat
of arms in the grasp of this courtesan, whom the world of Paris desired.
He, too, accepted Nana's conditions, leaving her entire freedom of
action and claiming her caresses only on certain days. He was not even
naively impassioned enough to require her to make vows. Muffat suspected
nothing. As to Vandeuvres, he knew things would take place for a
certainty, but he never made the least allusion to them and pretended
total ignorance, while his lips wore the subtle smile of the skeptical
man of pleasure who does not seek the impossible, provided he can have
his day and that Paris is aware of it.

From that time forth Nana's house was really properly appointed. The
staff of servants was complete in the stable, in the kitchen and in my
lady's chamber. Zoe organized everything and passed successfully through
the most unforeseen difficulties. The household moved as easily as
the scenery in a theater and was regulated like a grand administrative
concern. Indeed, it worked with such precision that during the early
months there were no jars and no derangements. Madame, however, pained
Zoe extremely with her imprudent acts, her sudden fits of unwisdom, her
mad bravado. Still the lady's maid grew gradually lenient, for she had
noticed that she made increased profits in seasons of wanton waste when
Madame had committed a folly which must be made up for. It was then that
the presents b