“Men are agreeable for such a short time!”
“Oh! how true that is!—And madame’s husband became like the others, no doubt, surly, moody, fault-finding. There are some men who refuse their wives everything, even a cashmere shawl; and everybody knows that a woman who goes into good society cannot do without a cashmere shawl! The idea of such a thing! what would she look like?”
“My husband found no fault with my taste for dress; besides, I had my own money; I brought him twelve thousand francs a year when I married him.”
“Well! if with that amount the wife was not the mistress, it would be funny!”
“But he had nearly twenty thousand francs a year.”
“Then you must have lived very handsomely! Ah! your maid must have been very lucky! madame is so noble, so generous! madame was born to be waited upon; anyone can see that at once.”
“But my husband became jealous, so jealous that he made himself ridiculous!”
“Ah! that is another fault of these men! to be jealous! and what good does it do them, I ask you? None at all, except to bore their wives! and when a woman is bored, why, bless my soul, she seeks some sort of distraction! I say, madame, as monsieur le baron had become so jealous, it seems to me that you should not have been very sorry to be left a widow.—Dear me! what lovely pink cheeks madame has to-day!”
Madame de Grangeville smiled at herself in the mirror which stood before her; then, throwing herself back in an armchair, she said with a little sigh:
“Ah! you don’t know all, Lizida. What I am going to tell you will surprise you tremendously! but you must be very discreet, and never mention it to anyone!”