At her house there was always good music, thanks to the artistes of all nations whom she liked to invite, and received in charming fashion when they came. There was dancing too, now and then, and often brilliant talk about France and the literary movement there. In the drawing-room of the intelligent widow was sure to be heard the latest news of Parisian fashions, and the last issued novels of famous Paris publishing firms were always there. There was no prudery, and a slightly scandalous story might be told; but anything that was said or done was in the tone and manner of good society.
It may be imagined that this position, so cleverly gained by the adroit countess, had rekindled the flame of her former adorers. Close siege was laid to her; she was even asked to give a successor to her first husband—the Russian—but the most ardent declarations left her cold and unmoved.
To her most intimate friend, General Podoi, who in the old days had wished to marry her, and was still deeply in love with her, she replied one day when he was pressing her to come to a decision:
"My dear general, I don't know whether I shall ever marry again. I doubt it. At any rate, I shall never commit this folly a second time until Lise herself is married. First of all, then, a husband must be found worthy of my daughter. You see, there is plenty of time yet. When I am about to become a grandmother, I shall be almost an old woman whom nobody will care for."
The countess might have added, but she did not, as much from prudence as politeness:
"And you, my good Podoi, will scarcely be of a figure to make a presentable husband then."
This determination of the countess had not discouraged the old soldier. He had rather taken it as a sort of future engagement, and had felt himself authorized in consequence to pose as an aspirant to her hand, as well as to make himself, so to speak, the protector, factotum, and steward of the Barineff household; and this, if it did not altogether drive off the other suitors, kept them, at any rate, at a tolerably respectful distance.
As the general was a man of honor, and held a high military appointment, the countess had tacitly accepted the platonic suzerainty, which was useful to her without being a serious danger for her reputation; and the good fellow Podoi for the moment demanded nothing more.
From the day of the above conversation, he began to pass before him in a mental review the young noblemen likely to make good husbands by the time fixed by his friend the countess. He had drawn up a very curious list, containing all the information necessary to form a judgment on the fortune, character, and future of his candidates. From this list he struck out one by one the names of such of them as disappeared in the vortex of the world, or who, according to him, had become unworthy to be presented to his protégée at the psychological moment.
Lise Barineff received an excellent education, and grew into a charming young girl. Her mother did not let her be seen often. She occasionally appeared at table when the guests were numerous; more rarely still she was present at her mother's receptions. She only went into society at musical soirées, and always accompanied the countess in her drives and walks about the city.