Francie replied candidly that for her too the occasion was most agreeable, and Mr. Flack pursued, looking round him with his hard smile, irrelevantly but sociably: “Yes, these French ideas! I don’t see how you can stand them. Those they have about young ladies are horrid.” “Well, they tell me you like them better after you’re married.” “Why after they’re married they’re worse--I mean the ideas. Every one knows that.” “Well, they can make you like anything, the way they talk,” Francie said. “And do they talk a great deal?” “Well, I should think so. They don’t do much else, and all about the queerest things--things I never heard of.” “Ah THAT I’ll bet my life on!” Mr. Flack returned with understanding. “Of course,” his companion obligingly proceeded, “‘ve had most conversation with Mr. Probert.” “The old gentleman?” “No, very little with him. I mean with Gaston. But it’s not he that has told me most--it’s Mme. de Brecourt. She’s great on life, on THEIR life--it’s very interesting. She has told me all their histories, all their troubles and complications.” “Complications?” Mr. Flack threw off. “That’s what she calls them. It seems very different from America. It’s just like a beautiful story--they have such strange feelings. But there are things you can see--without being told.” “What sort of things?” “Well, like Mme. de Cliche’s--” But Francie paused as if for a word. Her friend was prompt with assistance. “Do you mean her complications?” “Yes, and her husband’s. She has terrible ones. That’s why one must forgive her if she’s rather peculiar. She’s very unhappy.” “Do you mean through her husband?” “Yes, he likes other ladies better. He flirts with Mme. de Brives.” Mr. Flack’s hand closed over it. “Mme. de Brives?” “Yes, she’s lovely,” said Francie. “She ain’t very young, but she’s fearfully attractive. And he used to go every day to have tea with Mme. de Villepreux. Mme. de Cliche can’t bear Mme. de Villepreux.” “Well, he seems a kind of MEAN man,” George Flack moralised. “Oh his mother was very bad. That was one thing they had against the marriage.” “Who had?--against what marriage?” “When Maggie Probert became engaged.” “Is that what they call her--Maggie?” “Her brother does; but every one else calls her Margot. Old Mme. de Cliche had a horrid reputation. Every one hated her.” “Except those, I suppose, who liked her too much!” Mr. Flack permitted himself to guess. “And who’s Mme. de Villepreux?” he proceeded. “She’s the daughter of Mme. de Marignac.” “And who’s THAT old sinner?” the young man asked. “Oh I guess she’s dead,” said Francie. “She used to be a great friend of Mr. Probert--of Gaston’s father.” “He used to go to tea with her?” “Almost every day. Susan says he has never been the same since her death.” “The way they do come out with ‘em!” Mr. Flack chuckled. “And who the mischief’s Susan?”