"Yes," said Blanche, at last, in her indolent voice. "Paul is to join us about four o'clock in the reading-room, on leaving the ministry."
They had been married about a month, and De Vallagnosc, after a leave of absence of three weeks, spent in the South of France, had just returned to his post. The young woman had already her mother's portly look, and her flesh appeared puffed up and coarser since her marriage.
"But there's Madame Desforges over there!" exclaimed the countess, looking at a brougham that had just arrived.
"Do you think so?" murmured Madame Guibal. "After all those stories! She must still be weeping over the fire at The Four Seasons."
It was really Henriette. On perceiving her friends, she came up with a gay, smiling air, concealing her defeat beneath the fashionable ea
