He had not lived much in Philippe’s society; he was ten years his junior, and he feared him as he would a father, from whom stories about women are concealed.  Accordingly he experienced an uneasy sense of shame when he saw him so free in Nana’s company and heard him laugh uproariously, as became a man who was plunging into a life of pleasure with the gusto born of magnificent health.  Nevertheless, when his brother shortly began to present himself every day, Georges ended by getting somewhat used to it all.  Nana was radiant.

This, her latest installation, had been involving all the riotous waste attendant on the life of gallantry, and now her housewarming was being defiantly celebrated in a grand mansion positively overflowing with males and with furniture.

One afternoon when the Hugons were there Count Muffat arrived out of hours.  But when Zoe told him that Madame was with friends he refused to come in and took his departure discreetly, as became a gallant gentleman.  When he made his appearance again in the evening Nana received him with the frigid indignation of a grossly affronted woman.

“Sir,” she said, “I have given you no cause why you should insult me.  You must understand this:  when I am at home to visitors, I beg you to make your appearance just like other people.”

The count simply gaped in astonishment.  “But, my dear—­” he endeavored to explain.

“Perhaps it was because I had visitors!  Yes, there were men here, but what d’you suppose I was doing with those men?  You only advertise a woman’s affairs when you act the discreet lover, and I don’t want to be advertised; I don’t!”

He obtained his pardon with difficulty, but at bottom he was enchanted.  It was with scenes such as these that she kept him in unquestioning and docile submission.  She had long since succeeded in imposing Georges on him as a young vagabond who, she declared, amused her.  She made him dine with Philippe, and the count behaved with great amiability.  When they rose from table he took the young man on one side and asked news of his mother.  From that time forth the young Hugons, Vandeuvres and Muffat were openly about the house and shook hands as guests and intimates might have done.  It was a more convenient arrangement than the previous one.  Muffat alone still abstained discreetly from too-frequent visits, thus adhering to the ceremonious policy of an ordinary strange caller.  At night when Nana was sitting on her bearskins drawing off her stockings, he would talk amicably about the other three gentlemen and lay especial stress on Philippe, who was loyalty itself.

“It’s very true; they’re nice,” Nana would say as she lingered on the floor to change her shift.  “Only, you know, they see what I am.  One word about it and I should chuck ’em all out of doors for you!”