ave without his mother, had stationed himself at the
door, where he gave the exact address. "Third floor, door on your left."
Yet before going out Fauchery gave a final glance. Vandeuvres had again
resumed his position among the ladies and was laughing with Leonide de
Chezelles. Count Muffat and the Marquis de Chouard were joining in the
conversation, while the good Mme Hugon was falling asleep open-eyed.
Lost among the petticoats, M. Venot was his own small self again and
smiled as of old. Twelve struck slowly in the great solemn room.

"What--what do you mean?" Mme du Joncquoy resumed. "You imagine that
Monsieur de Bismarck will make war on us and beat us! Oh, that's
unbearable!"

Indeed, they were laughing round Mme Chantereau, who had just repeated
an assertion she had heard made in Alsace, where her husband owned a
foundry.

"We have the emperor, fortunately," said Count Muffat in his grave,
official way.

It was the last phrase Fauchery was able to catch. He closed the door
after casting one more glance in the direction of the Countess
Sabine. She was talking sedately with the chief clerk and seemed to be
interested in that stout individual's conversation. Assuredly he must
have been deceiving himself. There was no "little rift" there at all. It
was a pity.

"You're not coming down then?" La Faloise shouted up to him from the
entrance hall.

And out on the pavement, as they separated, they once more repeated:

"Tomorrow, at Nana's."

CHAPTER IV

Since morning Zoe had delivered up the flat to a managing man who had
come from Brebant's with a staff of helpers and waiters. Brebant was to
supply everything, from the supper, the plates and dishes, the glass,
the linen, the flowers, down to the seats and footstools. Nana could not
have mustered a dozen napkins out of all her cupboards, and not having
had time to get a proper outfit after her new start in life and scorning
to go to the restaurant, she had decided to make the restaurant come to
her. It struck her as being more the thing. She wanted to celebrate
her great success as an actress with a supper which should set people
talking. As her dining room was too small, the manager had arranged
the table in the drawing room, a table with twenty-five covers, placed
somewhat close together.

"Is everything ready?" asked Nana when she returned at midnight.

"Oh! I don't know," replied Zoe roughly, looking beside herself with
worry. "The Lord be thanked