"a marriageable young girl
should never shut herself up like a nun. She will never find a husband
if she remains at home--and she must marry. Indeed, marriage is a
sensible woman's only object in life, since it is her emancipation."

Was Madame de Fondege going to plead her son's cause? Mademoiselle
Marguerite almost believed it--but the lady was too shrewd for that. She
took good care not to mention as much as Lieutenant Gustave's name.

"The season will certainly be unusually brilliant," she said, "and
it will begin very early. On the fifth of November, the Countess de
Commarin will give a superb fete; all Paris will be there. On the
seventh, there will be a ball at the house of the Viscountess de Bois
d'Ardon. On the eleventh, there will be a concert, followed by a ball,
at the superb mansion of the Baroness Trigault--you know--the wife of
that strange man who spends all his time in playing cards."

"This is the first time I ever heard the name mentioned."

"Really! and you have been living in Paris for years. It seems
incomprehensible. You must know then, my dear little ignoramus, that the
Baroness Trigault is one of the most distinguished ladies in Paris, and
certainly the best dressed. I am sure her bill at Van Klopen's is not
less than a hundred thousand francs a year--and that is saying enough,
is it not?" And with genuine pride, she added: "The baroness is my
friend. I will introduce you to her."

Having once started on this theme, Madame de Fondege was not easily
silenced. It was evidently her ambition to be considered a woman of the
world, and to be acquainted with all the leaders of fashionable society;
and, in fact, if one listened to her conversation for an hour one could
learn all the gossip of the day. Though she was unable to interest
herself in this tittle-tattle, Marguerite was pretending to listen to it
with profound attention when the drawing-room door suddenly opened and
Evariste appeared with an impudent smile on his face. "Madame Landoire,
the milliner, is here, and desires to speak with Madame la Comtesse," he
said.

On hearing this name, Madame de Fondege started as if she had been
stung by a viper. "Let her wait," she said quickly. "I will see her in a
moment."

The order was useless, for the visitor was already on the threshold.
She was a tall, dark-haired, ill-mannered woman. "Ah! I've found you
at last," she said, rudely, "and I'm not sorry. This is the fourth time
I've come here w