'You've heard the story?'
'No,' rejoined Desforges, 'but it seems so simple. And what did Mainterne say?'
'You may guess how indignant he was. Lucie has gone to her mother's, and a duel is announced between Hacqueville and Laverdin, in which the former insists upon Mainterne being his second. Well, of all the fools I've seen, I think he is about the biggest. And he hasn't a single friend to open his eyes.'
'He'll find one,' said the Baron, rising to go. 'The moral of your story is, never write.'
'Won't you stay and dine with us, Frédéric?' asked Moraines.
'I have an engagement,' replied Desforges, 'but will meet you later at the Opera. Madame Moraines has been good enough to save me a seat.'
'In your box,' rejoined Paul, with more truth than he thought. The Baron, who had been a widower for the past ten years, had kept his box at the Opera, and sublet it for alternate weeks to his excellent friends the Moraines. The rent, however, was never paid. The husband was as little aware of his wife's accommodating ways as he was of the impossibility of living as they did on their income of fifty thousand francs. The remnant of the wretched fortune left by the late Minister, Madame Moraines' father, who in fifteen years of office had saved almost nothing, formed the half of this annual budget. The other half was the salary which Moraines got as secretary to an insurance company, a place procured for him by Desforges. In spite of Suzanne's protests, Paul had not lost the deplorable habit of expatiating upon his wife's clever husbanding of their united income, which was very small for the world in which the Moraines lived. Thanks to his simple-minded confidence, he was the kind of man who, when his friends complained of the increasing severity of the struggle for life, would say, 'You ought to have a wife like mine—she knows where to get bargains. She has a maid who is a perfect treasure, and who can turn out a dress as well as the best tailor!' 'You make me look ridiculous!' Suzanne would often say; but he loved her too well to give up praising her, and now, just after Desforges had left, his first act was to take her hands in his and say, 'How nice it is to have you all to myself for a moment! Kiss me, Suzanne.'
She gave him her cheek and the corner of her mouth, just as she had done to Desforges.
'When I am told such terrible stories as that,' he continued, 'it gives me quite a shock; but I soon recover when I think that I have been lucky enough to get a little woman like yourself. Ah! Suzanne, how I love you!'
'And yet I am sure you will scold me,' she replied, escaping from his embrace. 'The woman you think so clever, and of whom you are so proud, has been very foolish. Those diamonds,' she went on, holding up the box brought by Desforges, 'that I told you about—well, I couldn't resist them, and so I bought them.'