"Good-bye, prince, good-bye," and Mme. Picard went back to her stool, near her colleague, Mme. Flachet, and said to her:
"Ah, my dear, what a charming man the prince is! True gentlefolks, there is nothing like them! But they are dying out, they are dying out; there are many less than formerly."
Prince Agénor was willing to do Palmer—big Palmer, rich Palmer, vain Palmer—the honor of being one of his friends; he deigned, and very frequently, to confide to Palmer his financial difficulties, and the banker was delighted to come to his aid. The prince had been obliged to resign himself to becoming a member of two boards of directors presided over by Palmer, who was much pleased at having under obligations to him the representative of one of the noblest families in France. Besides, the prince proved himself to be a good prince, and publicly acknowledged Palmer, showing himself in his box, taking charge of his entertainments, and occupying himself with his racing-stable. He had even pushed his gratitude to the point of compromising Mme. Palmer in the most showy way.
"I am removing her from the middle class," he said; "I owe it to Palmer, who is one of the best fellows in the world."
The prince found the banker alone in a lower box.
"What is the name—the name of that blonde in the Sainte Mesme's box?"
"Mme. Derline."
"Is there a M. Derline?"
"Certainly, a lawyer—my lawyer; the Sainte Mesme's lawyer. And if you want to see Mme. Derline close to, come to my ball next Thursday. She will be there—"
The wife of a lawyer!. She was only the wife of a lawyer! The prince sat down in the front of the box, opposite Mme. Derline, and while looking at that lawyeress he was thinking. "Have I," he said to himself, "sufficient credit, sufficient power, to make of Mme. Derline the most beautiful woman in Paris?"