Long is their conference on that ride. PŠre Fran‡ois is thoughtful, as he spends his evening hour at dominoes with Aristide Dauvray. His eyes stray to fair Louise, busied with her needle. At last, he has a man of the world to lean on, in tracing up this child's parentage. Raoul and Armand are deep in schemes to enrich Joe's queer collection, the nucleus of that "bachelor ranch," "Ophir Villa."
In all the bravery of diamonds and goldsmithing the Westerner descends from his carriage, at the doors of Madame de Santos, next day.
Pale-faced, aristocratic PŠre Fran‡ois is a foil to the "occidental king." Mind and matter.
Waiting for the Donna, the gentlemen admire her salon.
Pictures, objets d'art, dainty bibelots, show the elegance of a queen of the "monde."
"Beats a steamboat," murmurs Colonel Joe, as the goddess enters the domain.
There is every grace in her manner. She inquires as to mutual friends of the "Southern set." Her praises of Raoul are justified in the beautiful bust, a creation of loveliness, on its Algerian onyx pedestal.
Colonel Joe Woods is enchanted. He wonders if he has ever seen this classic face before.
"I drive in the Bois," says madame, with an arch glance.
She knows the Californian is a feature of that parade, with his team. Paris rings with Colonel Joe's exploits.