A certain journey which mother and daughter had undertaken in the heart of the winter, and which had lasted not less than two months, had been generally attributed to an imprudence, the consequences of which it had become impossible to conceal, They had been in Italy, they said when they returned; hut no one had seen them there. Yet, as Mme. and Mlle. de Thaller's mode of life was, after all, the same as that of a great many women who passed for being perfectly proper, as there was no positive or palpable fact brought against them, as no name was mentioned, many people shrugged their shoulders, and replied, "Pure slanders,"
And why not, since the Baron de Thaller, the most interested party, held himself satisfied?
To the ill-advised friends who ventured some allusions to the public rumors, he replied, according to his humor, "My daughter can play the mischief generally, if she sees fit. As I shall give a dowry of a million, she will always find a husband,"
Or else, "And what of it? Do not American young ladies enjoyed unlimited freedom? Are they not constantly seen going out with young gentlemen, or walking or traveling alone? Are they, for all that, less virtuous than our girls, who are kept under such close watch? Do they make less faithful wives, or less excellent mothers?
Hypocrisy is not virtue."
To a certain extent, the Manager of the Mutual Credit was right.
Already Mlle. de Thaller had had to decide upon several quite suitable offers of marriage she had squarely refused them all.
"A husband!" she had answered each time. "Thank you, none for me.
I have good enough teeth to eat up my dowry myself. Later, we'll see,-when I've cut my wisdom teeth, and I am tired of my bachelor life,"
She did not seem near getting tired of it, though she pretended that she had no more illusions, was thoroughly blasee, had exhausted every sensation, and that life henceforth had no surprise in reserve for her. Her reception of M. de Traggers was, therefore, one of Mlle. Cesarine's least eccentricities, as was also that sudden fancy; to apply to the situation one of the most idiotic rondos of her repertoires:
"Cashier, you've got the bag;
Quick on your little nag"
Neither did she spare him a single verse: and, when she stopped, I see with pleasure," said M. de Traggers, "that the embezzlement of which your father has just been the victim does not in any way offend your good humor."
She shrugged her shoulders.
Would you have me cry," she said, "because the stockholders of the Baron Three Francs Sixty-eight have been swindled? Console yourself: they are accustomed to it."
And, as M. de Traggers made no answer, "And in all that," she went on, " I see no one to pity except the wife and daughter of that old stick Favoral."
"They are, indeed, much to he pitied."
"They say that the mother is a good old thing."
"She is an excellent person."
"And the daughter? Costeclar was crazy about her once. He made eyes like a carp in love, as he told us, to mamma and myself, 'She is an angel, mesdames, an angel! And when I have given her a little chic!' Now tell me, is she really as good looking as all that?"
"She is quite good looking."
"Better looking than me?"
"It is not the same style, mademoiselle."
Mlle. de Thaller had stopped singing; but she had not left the piano. Half turned towards M. de Traggers, she ran her fingers listlessly over the keys, striking a note here and there, as if to punctuate her sentences.
"Ah, how nice!" she exclaimed, "and, above all, how gallant!
Really, if you venture often on such declarations, mothers would be very wrong to trust you alone with their daughters."
"You did not understand me right, mademoiselle."
"Perfectly right, on the contrary. I asked you if I was better looking than Mlle. Favoral; and you replied to me, that it was not the same style."
"It is because, mademoiselle, there is indeed no possible comparison between you, who are a wealthy heiress, and whose life is a perpetual enchantment, and a poor girl, very humble, and very modest, who rides in the omnibus, and who makes her dresses herself."
A contemptuous smile contracted Mlle. Cesarine's lips.
"Why not?" she interrupted. "Men have such funny tastes!"
And, turning around suddenly, she began another rondo, no less famous than the first, and borrowed, this time, from the third act of the Petites-Blanchisseuses:
What matters the quality?
Beauty alone takes the prize Women before man must rise, And claim perfect equality."
Very attentively M. de Traggers was observing her. He had not been the dupe of the great surprise she had manifested when she found him in the little parlor.
"She knew I was here," he thought; "and it is her mother who has sent her to me. But why? and for what purpose?"
"With all that," she resumed, "I see the sweet Mme. Favoral and her modest daughter in a terribly tight place. What a 'bust,' marquis!"
"They have a great deal of courage, mademoiselle."
"Naturally. But, what is better, the daughter has a splendid voice: at least, so her professor told Costeclar. Why should she not go on the stage? Actresses make lots of money, you know. Papal help her, if she wishes. He has a great deal of influence in the theatres, papa has."
"Mme. and Mlle. Favoral have friends."
"Ah, yes! Costeclar."
"Others besides."
"I beg your pardon; but it seems to me that this one will do to begin with. He is gallant, Costeclar, extremely gallant, and, moreover, generous as a lord. Why should he not offer to that youthful and timid damsel a nice little position in mahogany and rosewood? That way, we should have the pleasure of meeting her around the lake."
And she began singing again, with a slight variation 'Macon, who, before the war, Carried clothes for a living, Now for her gains is trusting To that insane Costeclar."
"Ah, that big red-headed girl is terribly provoking!" thought M. de Traggers.
But, as he did not as yet understand very clearly what she wished to come to, he kept on his guard, and remained cold as marble.
Already she had again turned towards him.
