"True, but it's faded, and there's spots on it; madame spots her clothes terribly; the design isn't fashionable any longer, nor is the color; in fact, I shall have difficulty in getting twenty-two francs for it, and that won't carry us far!" Madame de Grangeville heaved a profound sigh and said to herself: "What will happen when I have nothing more to pledge?" "Oh! you see, madame," rejoined the lady's maid, becoming more and more familiar, "you didn't have any tact! when you met your husband in the woods at Nogent, you ought to have made some advances, have smiled graciously on him. A husband who is so rich, dear me! is worth a glance; if you had made eyes at him, it would have flattered him, and he would have come back to you." "I don't think so," replied Madame de Grangeville coldly. "Bless me!" rejoined the lady's maid; "unless that gentleman has some reasons--well, I don't know the explanation!" Meanwhile the summer had given place to the autumn, and already new necessities made themselves felt. Madame was cold in the morning and wanted a fire in her room; but they often lacked wood, and instead of trying to obtain some by playing the amiable with some new dealer, Mademoiselle Lizida thought of nothing but looking for a new place, having no desire to remain at a house where there were no more profits to be had. Anxiety and annoyance aged Madame de Grangeville rapidly. In six weeks she changed more than in six years. The deprivation of a fashionable bonnet or hat was to that woman a sharper grief than all the other events of her life. The wrinkles became more numerous and more visible on her face, and she was forced to go without any of those fashionable gewgaws with which a woman often conceals them. For a coquette, that was the most cruel torture; she had not the courage to endure her ill-fortune, and by worrying over it she made its ravages more rapid. One morning, when the wind was blowing from the north and the baroness absolutely insisted upon having a fire, Mademoiselle Lizida, having no firewood, had already broken up a chair from the reception room, and several mushroom boxes, with which she was preparing to make a brisk blaze, when the concierge rang, and delivered a letter on which there was nothing to pay. "A letter for madame," said Lizida, as she handed the missive to her mistress. "Open it, madame; perhaps it's some good news. If somebody should send you some money, how handily it would work in just now!" "I don't expect any," said the baroness. "An additional reason, madame; when one expects things, they don't come; when one doesn't expect them, they come; and then, see what a lovely square letter, with three wax seals." "That is true." "And the lovely handwriting; it is like copper-plate." "Yes, it is probably some circular from a scrivener. However, let us see what it is."