EVERY evening, when Le Ber was at home, he went up to kiss Madame’s hand, inquire how she did, or to play cards with her until the supper was served at seven. Madame was gracious, with a sense of supremacy and privilege; many a lesson in worldly wisdom, too, the shrewd trader received from the witty and sagacious woman of the world. Le Ber had been brought up on the estate of the Marquise’s father, and the two, though so strangely dissimilar, had many points of interest in common. The Marquise de Monesthrol was partial to receptions in bed. On such occasions she wore a white satin jacket, white gloves, a cornette or morning cap of exquisite lace, and had the card-table so placed that she could join in the game without awkwardness. The visitors received greetings in tone apparently easy and natural, yet in reality framed and graduated with the most exquisite tact. In this Madame resembled the great lady who enjoyed the reputation of being so thoroughly well-bred that one could tell merely from her pronunciation of the word “Monseigneur” whether she were speaking to a Prince of the blood, an ecclesiastical dignitary, or a peer of France. Madame also enjoyed her evening “_apartement_,” commencing at seven and ending at ten, whither her guests gathered to play lasquenet, hombre and brélan, while in the intervals between the deals Jean handed around frothed chocolate and muscat on a massive silver tray chased with armorial bearings. These receptions were a centre of wit—a wit delicate and subtle, but always natural and agreeable; they brought with them a reminiscence of the dazzling days of the lady’s youth. Most of the party gathered there had passed through manifold troubles. In many cases it was misfortune which had driven them to quit their native land; disease, famine and death now stared them constantly in the face, yet they were proud and high-hearted, presenting an indomitable front to adversity. The common people might bewail their troubles—that was the privilege of their low estate—but whatever the dire necessity, the pressing emergency of the moment, it would have been deemed the height of ill-breeding for any of the Marquise’s coterie to allude to any subject not capable of amusing and interesting the entire company.