le things; the three sisters Wermant were not wanting in
chic, but, hang it!--the sweetest flower of them all, to his mind, was
the tall one, the dark one--unripe fruit in perfection! "And a year
or two hence," added M. de Talbrun, with all the self-confidence of an
expert, "every one will be talking about her in the world of society."

Poor Fred kept silent, trying to curb his wrath. But the blood mounted
to his temples as he listened to these remarks, poured into his ear by a
man of thirty-five, between puffs of his cigar, because there was
nobody else to whom he could make them. But they seemed to Fred very
ill-mannered and ill-timed. If he had not dreaded making himself absurd,
he would gladly have stood forth as the champion of the Sparks, the
Wermants, and all the other members of the Blue Band, so that he might
give vent to the anger raging in his heart on hearing that odious
compliment to Jacqueline. Why was he not old enough to marry her? What
right had that detestable Talbrun to take notice of any girl but his
fiancee? If he himself could marry now, his choice would soon be made!
No doubt, later--as his mother had said to him. But would Jacqueline
wait? Everybody was beginning to admire her. Somebody would carry her
off--somebody would cut him out while he was away at sea. Oh, horrible
thought for a young lover!

That night, at the Casino, while dancing a quadrille with Giselle, he
could not refrain from saying to her, "Don't you object to Monsieur de
Talbrun's dancing so much with Jacqueline?"

"Who?--I?" she cried, astonished, "I don't see why he should not."
And then, with a faint laugh, she added: "Oh, if she would only take
him--and keep him!"

But Madame de Monredon kept a sharp eye upon M. de Talbrun. "It seems
to me," she said, looking fixedly into the face of her future
grandson-in-law, "that you really take pleasure in making children skip
about with you."

"So I do," he replied, frankly and good-humoredly. "It makes me feel
young again."

And Madame de Monredon was satisfied. She was ready to admit that most
men marry women who have not particularly enchanted them, and she had
brought up Giselle with all those passive qualities, which, together
with a large fortune, usually suit best with a 'mariage de convenance'.

Meantime Jacqueline piqued herself upon her worldly wisdom, which she
looked upon as equal to Madame de Monredon's, since the terrible event
which had filled her mind with doubts