The words spoken by Lisbeth, “He begs of his former mistresses,” haunted the Baroness all night. Like sick men given over by the physicians, who have recourse to quacks, like men who have fallen into the lowest Dantesque circle of despair, or drowning creatures who mistake a floating stick for a hawser, she ended by believing in the baseness of which the mere idea had horrified her; and it occurred to her that she might apply for help to one of those terrible women. Next morning, without consulting her children or saying a word to anybody, she went to see Mademoiselle Josepha Mirah, prima donna of the Royal Academy of Music, to find or to lose the hope that had gleamed before her like a will-o’-the-wisp. At midday, the great singer’s waiting-maid brought her in the card of the Baronne Hulot, saying that this person was waiting at the door, having asked whether Mademoiselle could receive her. “Are the rooms done?” “Yes, mademoiselle.” “And the flowers fresh?” “Yes, mademoiselle.” “Just tell Jean to look round and see that everything is as it should be before showing the lady in, and treat her with the greatest respect. Go, and come back to dress me--I must look my very best.” She went to study herself in the long glass. “Now, to put our best foot foremost!” said she to herself. “Vice under arms to meet virtue!--Poor woman, what can she want of me? I cannot bear to see. “The noble victim of outrageous fortune!” And she sang through the famous aria as the maid came in again. “Madame,” said the girl, “the lady has a nervous trembling--” “Offer her some orange-water, some rum, some broth--” “I did, mademoiselle; but she declines everything, and says it is an infirmity, a nervous complaint--” “Where is she?” “In the big drawing-room.” “Well, make haste, child. Give me my smartest slippers, the dressing-gown embroidered by Bijou, and no end of lace frills. Do my hair in a way to astonish a woman.--This woman plays a part against mine; and tell the lady--for she is a real, great lady, my girl, nay, more, she is what you will never be, a woman whose prayers can rescue souls from your purgatory--tell her I was in bed, as I was playing last night, and that I am just getting up.” The Baroness, shown into Josepha’s handsome drawing-room, did not note how long she was kept waiting there, though it was a long half hour. This room, entirely redecorated even since Josepha had had the house, was hung with silk in purple and gold color. The luxury which fine gentlemen were wont to lavish on their _petites maisons_, the scenes of their profligacy, of which the remains still bear witness to the follies from which they were so aptly named, was displayed to perfection, thanks to modern inventiveness, in the four rooms opening into each other, where the warm temperature was maintained by a system of hot-air pipes with invisible openings.