"I dare say; I do not doubt it,—that is, if you are really in earnest, and can promise me my invitation to the ball in exchange for his vote."
"The one depends upon the other," replied Madeleine. "I had the good fortune to secure the vote of Mr. Gobert, the banker of Monsieur de Fleury, and"—
"Mr. Gobert votes for the left road? Ah, that increases the difficulty. My husband makes a point of never voting as he does,—never! It is enough that Mr. Gobert votes one way for him to vote the other."
"That is singular; they are both bankers, and I thought they were friends."
"It is because they are both bankers that they are the bitterest enemies. Talk of the jealousies of women, of artists, of men of genius, of nations! Those are nothing to the jealousy of these rival capitalists, who are engaged in a perpetual strife to excel each other. If Mr. Gobert gives a ball that costs two thousand dollars, Mr. Gilmer gives one that costs four thousand. If Mr. Gobert builds a superb house, Mr. Gilmer builds a palace. It is a steeple-chase of vanity, in which the conqueror has for the only price of his victory the delight of seeing his rival conquered."
"Then you find the difficulty of reconciling Mr. Gilmer to vote for the left road beyond your skill?"
"No,—no,—I do not say that. I do not admit that, by any means. But Mr. Gobert is a great obstacle."
"But one which the pleasure of attending this ball will enable you to surmount?"
"Yes, I trust so. There is a way,—there is a sacrifice I can make; and I will not hesitate for such an object. My husband detests, without the slightest cause, a gentleman who visits me frequently: now, if I promised not to receive this obnoxious, but very delightful individual (whom I care nothing about), I think Mr. Gilmer, in return, would be willing, for once, to cast, his vote on the same side as his enemy. It would need some such grave inducement, some such unquestionable sacrifice on my part."