by the vivacity of his dark brown eyes, also by his long, thick moustache, probably dyed. He looked like an old soldier. He was the last of the great Thomery family who, for many generations, had been sugar refiners. His was a personality well known in Parisian Society; always first at his office or his factories, as soon as night fell he became the man of the world, frequenting fashionable drawing-rooms, theatrical first-nights, official receptions, and balls in the aristocratic circles of the faubourg Saint-Germain.
Remarkably handsome, extremely rich, Thomery had had many love affairs. Gossips had it that between him and Madame de Vibray there had existed a tender intimacy; and, for once, gossip was right. But they had been tactful, had respected the conventions whilst their irregular union had lasted. Though now a thing of the past, for Thomery had sought other loves, his passion for the Baroness had changed to a calm, strong, semi-brotherly affection; whilst Madame de Vibray retained a more lively, a more tender feeling for the man whom she had known as the most gallant of lovers.
Thomery suddenly ceased talking of his rheumatism:
"But, my dear friend, I do not see that pretty smile which is your greatest charm! How is that?"
Madame de Vibray looked sad: her beautiful eyes gazed deep into those of Thomery:
"Ah," she murmured, "one cannot be eternally smiling; life sometimes holds painful surprises in store for us."
"Is something worrying you?" Thomery's tone was one of anxious sympathy.
"Yes and no," was her evasive reply. There was a silence; then she said:
"It is always the same thing! I have no hesitation in telling you that, you, my old friend: it is a money wound—happily it is not mortal."
Thomery nodded:
"Well, I declare it is just what I expected! My poor Mathilde, are you never going to be sensible?"
The Baroness pouted: "You know quite well I am sensible … only it happens that there are moments when one is short of cash! Yesterday I asked my bankers to send me fifty thousand francs, and I have not heard a word from them!"
"That is no great matter! The Barbey-Nanteuil credit cannot be shaken!"
"Oh," cried the Baroness, "I have no fears on that score; but, as a rule, their delay in sending me what I ask for is of the briefest, yet no one has come from them to-day."
Thomery began scolding her gently:
"Ah, Mathilde, that you should be in such pressing need of so large a sum must mean that you have been drawn into some deplorable speculation! I will wager that you invested in those Oural copper mines after all!"
"I thought the shares were going up," was Madame de Vibray's excuse: she lowered her eyes like a naughty schoolgirl caught in the act.
Thomery, who had risen, and was walking up and down the room, halted in front of her:
"I do beg of you to consult those who know all the ins and outs, persons competent to advise you, when you are bent on plunging into speculations of this description! The Barbey-Nanteuil people can give you reliable information; I myself, you know … "
"But since it is really of no importance!" interrupted Madame de Vibray, who had no wish to listen to the remonstrances of her too prudent friend: "What does it matter? It is my only diversion now! … I love gambling—the emotions it arouses in one, the perpetual hopes and fears it excites!"
Thomery was about to reply, to argue, to remonstrate further, but the Baroness had caught him glancing at the clock hanging beside the fireplace:
"I am making you dine late," she said in a tone of apology. Then, with a touch of malice, and looking up at Thomery from under her eyes, to see how he took it:
"You are to be rewarded for having to wait! … I have invited Princess Sonia Danidoff to dine with you!"
Thomery started. He frowned. He again seated himself beside the Baroness:
"You have invited her? … "
"Yes … and why not? … I believe this pretty woman is one of your special friends … that you consider her the most charming of all your friends now! … "
Thomery did not take up the challenge: he simply said:
"I had an idea that the Princess was not much to your taste!"
The eyes of Madame de Vibray flashed a sad, strange look on her old friend, as she said gently:
"One can accustom oneself to anything and everything, my dear friend. … Besides, I quite recognise that the Princess deserves the reputation she enjoys of being wonderfully beautiful and also intellectual. … "
Thomery did not reply to this: he looked puzzled, annoyed. …
The Baroness continued:
"They even say that handsome bachelor, Monsieur Thomery, is not indifferent to her fascinations! … That, for the first time in his life, he is ready to link … "
"Oh, as for that! … " Thomery was protesting, when the door opened, and the Princess Sonia Danidoff rustled into the room, a superbly—a dazzlingly beautiful vision, all audacity and charm.
"Accept all my apologies, dear Baroness," she cried, "for arriving so late; but the streets are so crowded!"
" … And I live such a long way out!" added Madame de Vibray.
"You live in a charming part," amended the Princess. Then, catching sight of Thomery:
"Why, you!" she cried. And, with a gracious and dignified gesture, the Princess extended her hand, which the wealthy sugar refiner hastened to kiss.
At this moment the double doors were flung wide, and Antoine, with his most solemn air, his most stiff-starched manner, announced:
"Dinner is served!"
" … No," cried she, smiling, whilst she refused the arm offered by her old friend; "take in the Princess, dear friend; I will follow … by myself!"
Thomery obeyed. He passed slowly along the gallery into the dining-room with the Princess. Behind them came the Baroness, who watched them as they went: Thomery, big, muscular, broad-shouldered: Sonia Danidoff, slim, pliant, refined, dainty!
Checking a deep sigh, the Baroness could not help thinking, and her heart ached at the thought:
"What a fine couple they would make! … What a fine couple they will make!"
But, as she seated herself opposite her guests, she said to herself:
"Bah! … I must send sad thoughts flying! … It is high time!"
"My dear Thomery!" she cried playfully: "I wish—I expect you to show yourself the most charming of men to your delicious neighbour!"
Ten o'clock had struck before Madame de Vibray and her guests left the dinner-table and proceeded to the small drawing-room. Thomery was allowed to smoke in their presence; besides, the Princess had accepted a Turkish cigarette,
