"Value for value only, Madam! Will you tell me in turn of yourself?"
"All?" She looked at me curiously.
"Only so much as Madam wishes."
I saw her dark eyes study me once more. At last she spoke again. "At least," she said, "it would be rather vulgar if I did not explain some of the things which become your right to know when I ask you to come into this home, as into my other home in Washington."
"In Heaven's name, how many of these homes have you, then? Are they all alike?"
"Five only, now," she replied, in the most matter-of-fact manner in the world, "and, of course, all quite alike."
"Where else?"
"In Paris, in Vienna, in London," she answered. "You see this one, you see them all. 'Tis far cooler in Montreal than in Washington in the summer time. Do you not approve?"
"The arrangement could not be surpassed."
"Thank you. So I have thought. The mere charm of difference does not appeal to me. Certain things my judgment approves. They serve, they suffice. This little scheme it has pleased me to reproduce in some of the capitals of the world. It is at least as well chosen as the taste of the Prince of Orleans, son of Louis Philippe, could advise."