“The Marquis de Prerolles, my brother,” the Duchess continued.

“The smiles of Fortune must be sweet, Mademoiselle,” said the General, bowing low.

“Not so sweet as those of Glory, General,” Zibeline replied, with a pretty air of deference.

“She possesses a decidedly ready wit,” said Madame de Lisieux in a confidential aside.

“Now, ladies,” added the president, “I believe that the best thing we can do is to leave everything in the hands of Mademoiselle and our treasurer.  The examination of the annual resources will be the object of the next meeting.  For to-day, the meeting is adjourned.”

Then, as Mademoiselle de Vermont was about to mingle with the other ladies, the Duchess detained her an instant, inquiring: 

“Have you any engagement for this evening, Mademoiselle?”

“None, Madame.”

“Will you do us the honor to join us in my box at the opera?”

“But—­I have no one to accompany me,” said Zibeline.  “I dismissed my cousin De Sainte-Foy, thinking that I should have no further need of his escort to-day.”

“That does not matter at all,” the Duchess replied.  “We will stop for you on our way.”

“I should not like to trouble you so much, Madame.  If you will allow me, I will stop at your door at whatever hour will be agreeable to you, and my carriage shall follow yours.”

“Very well.  At nine o’clock, if you please.  They sing Le Prophete tonight, and we shall arrive just in time for the ballet.”

“The ‘Skaters’ Ballet,’” said the General.

This remark recalled to Mademoiselle her triumph of the evening before.  “Do you bear a grudge against me?” she said, with a smile.

“Less and less of one,” the General replied.

“Then, let us make a compact of peace,” said Zibeline, holding out her hand in the English fashion.

With these words she left the room on the arm of the Duke, who claimed the honor of escorting her to her carriage.

“Shall you go to the opera also?” asked the Duchess of her brother.

“Yes, but later.  I shall dine in town.”

“Then-au-revoir—­this evening!”

“This evening!”

CHAPTER XIV

A WOMAN’S INSTINCT

The General had been more favorably impressed with Zibeline’s appearance than he cared to show.  The generous action of this beautiful girl, her frankness, her ease of manner, her cleverness in repartee, were likely to attract the attention of a man of his character.  He reproached himself already for having allowed himself to be influenced by the rancorous hostility of the Desvanneaux, and, as always happens with just natures, the sudden change of his mind was the more favorable as his first opinion had been unjust.

Such was the theme of his reflections on the route from the Hotel de Montgeron to that of Eugenic Gontie’s, with whom he was engaged to dine with some of her friends, invited to celebrate her success of the evening before.