"I recognize his good taste," said the countess sarcastically, as she shrugged her pretty shoulders disdainfully. "I would wager the flowers were ordered yesterday morning by some lover who broke off with his mistress during the day, and consequently did not call for them in the evening. The Duke de Riancourt is the only man in the world capable of discovering such bargains!"
"Ah! madame, can you believe he would economize to that point?" protested the maid. "He is so rich!"
"That makes it only the more probable."
A rap on the door of the boudoir adjoining the dressing-room, interrupted the conversation, and the French maid vanished, returning almost immediately with the information that the duke had arrived and was at madame's orders.
"Let him wait," observed the countess carelessly. "Is the princess in the drawing-room?"
"Yes, madame."
"Very well—here Katinka, clasp this bracelet," resumed the countess, addressing the Russian maid in her own language once more, "and see what time it is."
Katinka turned to the clock and was opening her lips to reply, when her mistress forestalled her by saying, with a mocking smile:
"After all, why should I make such an inquiry. The duke has just arrived, half-past nine must—"
The half-hour stroke from the clock on the chimney interrupted her, and she broke into a merry, rippling laugh.