"You find me not worthy?" he inquired.
For the first time Madame de Vigerie smiled, shaking her head slightly. "I will not mount into the pulpit, mon ami, however much you press me. The day when I shall make you a homily is, I hope, distant. Meanwhile, I wish you every happiness, and a son like his mother.... Here they are returning."
When the visitor had departed and Armand, too, had vanished, the two friends walked up and down under the limes.
"I have a house full to-morrow," said Madame de Vigerie. "When can you come over and see me quietly, ma chère. Of course you will both dine with us next week."
"The Marquis is coming next week," said Horatia, "and Claude-Edmond. And, rather to my horror, the Duchesse has expressed a desire to stay here. It is a royal command."
"You will be as busy as I for the next few weeks, then?"
Horatia nodded. "Yes, except that this house is not so capacious as St. Clair. I shall not be able to get much time for reading, I expect. I have finished Ourika, however, and the other tales of Madame de Duras. I did not admire them very much; perhaps I ought to have done so."
"They had a vogue some years ago," said Madame de Vigerie, "probably because she was a great lady. But I do not think that any woman who keeps a famous salon, as she did, can do much else."
"I do not want to write," said Horatia, "but it is a dream of mine to have a little salon—a literary salon—some day. But my husband does not encourage it."
"Monsieur le Comte is quite right," responded Madame de Vigerie rather unexpectedly. "To have a salon is a life in itself. It is true that the possession of one is a Frenchwoman's ambition in youth, and her glory in old age. But, mon Dieu, what sacrifices does it not entail on her! She can be neither wife, mother, nor lover, and in friendship she can have but one preference—for the most illustrious man whom she can attract to her gatherings. To retain him there she must sacrifice everything else; she and all her surroundings must be vowed to his cult. If she cannot procure such a great man for the pivot of her circle she must wear herself out in attentions to a host of lesser lights.—My dear, you are too good for either of these rôles; do not regret your lost salon!"