"I am glad to hear it, my dear," she said, coldly, "I am glad anybody can be happy. There are so many of us who are sad."
"But why are you pleased?" asked Fred, looking at her, as if by some instinct he understood that he had something to do with it.
"Our prodigal has returned," answered Giselle, with a little air of satisfaction, very artificial, however, for she could hardly breathe, so great was her fear and her emotion. "My house is in the garb of rejoicing."
"The prodigal? Do you mean your husband?" said Madame d'Argy, maliciously.
"Oh! I despair of him," replied Giselle, lightly. "No, I speak of a prodigal who did not go far, and who made haste to repent. I am speaking of Jacqueline."
There was complete silence. The knitting-needles ticked rapidly, a slight flush rose on the dark cheeks of Fred.
"All I beg," said Madame d'Argy, "is that you will not ask me to eat the fatted calf in her honor. The comings and going of Mademoiselle de Nailles have long ceased to have the slightest interest for me."
"They have for Fred at any rate; he has just proved it, I should say," replied Giselle.
By this time the others were as much embarrassed as Giselle. She saw it, and went on quickly:
"Their names are together in everybody's mouth; you can not hinder it."