Mademoiselle Lizida had no sooner made this remark than she saw that she had put her foot in it; she made haste to add: “When I said a long time, I said something very foolish; I spoke without thinking, for after all, I have no idea whether madame was married long ago, any more than I know how long madame has been a widow. Sometimes one is widowed right away. A husband doesn’t always last a year.” “Oh! my poor Lizida, there are many other things that you don’t know, and that would surprise you greatly if I should tell you them!” Mademoiselle Lizida, who was inquisitive like all lady’s maids, seeing that her mistress was in one of those moods when one longs to disclose one’s secrets, to confide the most private mysteries which a woman always tires of keeping to herself, employed at first her usual tactics to make herself agreeable to her mistress. “Mon Dieu! how very becoming that little blue cap is to madame! It gives her such a charming air! But then, madame always has that.” “Oh! there are days when one looks better than on others; everybody is like that; to-day certainly seems to be one of my good days.” “It would seem then that madame was married very young?” “Yes, very young; I was seventeen years old, not more.” “What a sweet little bride madame must have been!” “Yes, everybody admired me!” “And madame’s husband, the Baron de Grangeville, was he young? Was he a fine-looking man?” “Why yes, my husband was a fine man, very good-looking, with a somewhat serious expression.--Would you believe, my dear child, that I was mad over that man?” “Pray, madame, why not? There are wives who adore their husbands; it isn’t very common, but such things are seen.” “Yes, I adored him--the first year after our marriage.” “Ah! only the first year?” “Men are agreeable for such a short time!” “Oh! how true that is!--And madame’s husband became like the others, no doubt, surly, moody, fault-finding. There are some men who refuse their wives everything, even a cashmere shawl; and everybody knows that a woman who goes into good society cannot do without a cashmere shawl! The idea of such a thing! what would she look like?” “My husband found no fault with my taste for dress; besides, I had my own money; I brought him twelve thousand francs a year when I married him.” “Well! if with that amount the wife was not the mistress, it would be funny!” “But he had nearly twenty thousand francs a year.” “Then you must have lived very handsomely! Ah! your maid must have been very lucky! madame is so noble, so generous! madame was born to be waited upon; anyone can see that at once.” “But my husband became jealous, so jealous that he made himself ridiculous!”