"And you, M. de Bois?" inquired the marchioness innocently, though she was quite aware that he would repeat his lordship's answer, for she had been consulted in regard to the guests whom it would gratify her to meet.
Mrs. Gilmer, who was choking with vexation, sought revenge in one of those petty manoeuvres which women of the world thoroughly understand. She paused, in the most natural manner, before the hat which she had just extolled, and which she had been informed was designed for Madame de Fleury, and said aloud,--
"What a pretty bonnet! Admirably suited to hide the defects of an uncertain complexion, and hair of no color, neither light nor dark. It is not too gay or coquettish either; just the thing for a woman of thirty, who has begun to fade."
"I beg pardon, madame, it is intended for Madame de Fleury," answered Victorine, reprovingly, and not immediately comprehending the intentional spite of Mrs. Gilmer's remark.
"Indeed!" returned the latter, still speaking as though she had no suspicion of the presence of the marchioness; "will it not be rather _young_ for her? It seems to me that these colors are a _little too bright_ for a person of _her age_."
"Madame de Fleury is present, and may overhear you," whispered Victorine, warningly.
"Ah, indeed! I did not perceive her; much obliged to you for telling me, for she conceals her age so well that I would not mortify her by letting her suppose that I am aware of her advanced years," continued the malicious little lady in a very audible tone.
Madame de Fleury was, in reality, but twenty-five, and particularly sensitive on the subject of her age, or rather of her youth. She expected to be taken for twenty-two at the most, and had been furious when Mrs. Gilmer talked of her bonnet as suitable to a person of thirty; but when her spiteful rival had the audacity to suggest that Madame de Fleury had even passed that decisive period, she could scarcely contain her rage. By a sudden impulse she turned and faced the speaker. Both ladies made a profound courtesy, with countenances expressive of mortal hatred.
Lord Linden could not help whispering to Gaston, "Feminine belligerents! Those courtesies were exchanged after the manner that men exchange blows. It is very strange," he continued, looking about. "I do not see my fair incognita, though she certainly entered here. I fancy the marchioness intends to depart; I prefer to linger awhile. There are several _salons_ yonder; I will steal off quietly and take refuge where I can watch who passes."