"Why not?" said Gainor, pleased at the pretty way of the girl.
"Oh, quite impossible, child," said the vicomtesse. "It is quite too valuable."
"Please!" said Pearl. "It would so become thee."
"I really cannot."
"Thy roquelaure," laughed Mrs. Swanwick, "was—well—I did remonstrate. Why may not we too have the pleasure of extravagance?"
"I am conquered," said Madame, a trace of color in her wan cheeks as Mrs. Swanwick set the lace veil on her head, saying: "We are obliged, Madame. And where is the vicomte? He should see thee."
"Gone," said Miss Gainor; "and just as well, too," for now Nanny was holding up a variety of lavender-scented delicacies of raiment, fine linens, and openwork silk stockings.
René, still laughing, met Schmidt in the hall.
"You were merry up-stairs."
"Indeed we were." And he gaily described his mother's unwonted mood; but of the sacred future of the stays he said no word.