"Why, they are Americans. They've made their fortune out of cotton, candles, indigo, or negroes--or--I don't know what; but what in the world does that matter to us? Americans, you know, are accepted nowadays. As far as I am concerned--with people who give balls, there's only one thing I care about, and that is that they shouldn't belong to the police and should give good suppers. It's all superb at their house, it seems. The wife is astonishing. She talks the French of the backwoods; and people say she was tattooed when she was a child. That's why she can't wear low dresses. It's most amusing, and she is so entertaining. They want to get plenty of people, you see. You _will_ do it for me, won't you? I can assure you that if I were not in mourning I should have had great pleasure in putting on the invitation cards, 'With the Baronne de Lermont's compliments.' And then, too, they are people who will do things properly. Oh, as to that I'm convinced of it. They are sure to make you a present----" "Oh no, if I undertake the invitations I don't want a present for it." "How queer you are! Why, that sort of thing's done every day--it's the custom. It would be like refusing a box of sweets from these gentlemen here on New Year's day. And now I must go. I shall bring them to see you to-morrow--my savages. Good-bye! Oh dear, I'm nearly dead!" and with these words she disappeared. "Is it really true?" Renee asked her sister. "What?" "That guests are supplied for balls in this way?" "Well, didn't you know that?" "I was in the same state of ignorance," said the young man M. Barousse had brought. "It's very convenient for foreigners," remarked Mme. Davarande. "Yes, but it seems to me that it's rather humiliating for Parisians. Don't you think so, mademoiselle?" said the young man, turning to Mlle. Mauperin. "Oh, it's an accepted thing, anyhow," said Mme. Davarande. XXIII Mme. Bourjot had just arrived with her daughter at the Mauperins'. She kissed Renee and sat down by Mme. Mauperin on the sofa near the fire. "My dears," she said, turning to the two girls, who were chattering together on the other side of the room, "suppose you were to let your mothers have a little talk together. Will you take Noemi out in the garden a little, Renee? I give her over to you." Renee put her arm round Noemi and pulled her along with her, skipping as she went. In the hall she caught up a Pyrenees hood that was lying on a chair and threw it over her head, put on some little overshoes, and ran out into the garden, rushing along like a child, and keeping her arm round her friend all the time. "There's a secret--a secret. Do you know what the secret is?" she exclaimed, stopping suddenly short and quite out of breath. Noemi looked at her with her large, sad eyes and did not answer. "You silly girl!" said Renee, kissing her. "I've guessed it--I caught a few words--mamma lets everything out. It's about his lordship, my brother. There now!"