Meanwhile the ladies, with their graceful toilettes displayed on the low soft chairs, talked of dress behind their fans, or listened to the songs of a professional singer, while young men whispered soft nothings in their ears.
It was rumored that the Prince lost heavily. It was not to be wondered at; he was so happy in love! Madame Desvarennes, who used every means of gaining information on the subject, even to the gossip of the servants, heard that the sums were enormous. No doubt they were exaggerated, but the fact remained the same. The Prince was losing.
Madame Desvarennes could not resist the inclination of finding out whether Micheline knew what was going on, and one morning when the young wife came down to see her mother, dressed in a lovely pink gown, the mistress, while teasing her daughter, said, carelessly:
“It seems your husband lost heavily last night.”
Micheline looked astonished at Madame Desvarennes, and in a quiet voice replied:
“A good host may not win from his guests; it would look as if he invited them to rob them. Losses at cards are included in the costs of a reception.”
Madame Desvarennes thought that her daughter had become a very grand lady, and had soon acquired expanded ideas. But she dared not say anything more. She dreaded a quarrel with her daughter, and would have sacrificed everything to retain her cajoling ways.
She threw herself into her work with renewed vigor.
“If the Prince spends large sums,” she said to herself, “I will earn larger ones. There can be no hole dug deep enough by him that I shall not be able, to fill up.”
And she made the money come in at the door so that her son-in-law might throw it out of the window.