A few steps behind, Madame Orlandi made her way slowly under her heavy burden of flesh. The critical eye of Mademoiselle de Songeon was upon her as she panted out her confused account of the benefits of the new situation.
“My daughter had great difficulty in making up her mind. But M. Landeau is a man of principles—and, what is not to be despised, of large fortune.”
The “principles” were introduced to placate the lady president, who asked, “Has he given up work?”
“Oh, no, he still works. He is a director. He commands thousands of workmen—a real general!”
“But,” the old maid muttered dryly, “in my time, no one in our set would have married a business man.”
Jean Berlier and Isabelle, having completed their tour of the villa, came out from behind the shrubbery. The young man took great pleasure in baiting Mademoiselle de Songeon, and the last sentence immediately provoked his intervention.
“That is all changed now, Mademoiselle. It is the misfortune of the age. Formerly nobility meant doing nothing, nowadays, it is the result of labor, which is a moral obligation rather than a physical necessity. The world is upside down; it is the bad people who don’t work now.”
But the Honorary President of the White Cross of Savoy, of the Bread Club of St. Anthony, and patroness of several workshops, stared at him haughtily and answered somewhat acidly:
“Those who have kept pigs on earth will keep them in heaven too.”
“Is that from the Gospel?” asked the mocking Jean.