"And what a beautiful view from the windows--so much better than ours at the pompous old Bristol, looking out on that bare square!" Adelaide laughed. Not by chance, she knew, did Miss Janet, with her softly sheathed but swift and sharp cat claws, drag in the delicate hint that while Adelaide was "cozy" in an unaristocratic _maison meublée_, she herself was ensconced in the haunts of royalty; and it suddenly came back to Del how essentially cheap was "aristocracy." "But I mustn't look at those adorable gardens," continued Janet. "They fill me with longing for the country, for the pure, simple things. I am so sick of the life mamma and I lead. And you are married to dear Dory--how romantic! And I hear that Arthur is to marry Margaret Schultz--or whatever her name was--that splendid creature! She was a _dear_ friend of the trained nurse I had last spring, and what the nurse told me about her made me positively love her. Such character! And getting ready to lead _such_ a useful life." This without the least suggestion of struggle with a difficult subject. "Arthur is a noble fellow, too. If we had been in spiritual accord, I'd have loved to go and lead his life with him." Adelaide was in high good humor now--Janet was too preposterous to be taken seriously. "What do you want me to do for you, Jen?" said she. "Why, nothing!" exclaimed Janet, looking a little wonder and much reproach. Del laughed. "Now, really, Jen," said she. "You know you never in the world went to all the trouble of getting my address, and then left royalty at the Bristol for a _maison meublée_, four flights up and no elevator, just to _see_ me!" "I had thought of something I was sure would give you pleasure," said Janet, injured. "What do you want me to do for you?" repeated Adelaide, with smiling persistence. "Mamma and I have an invitation to spend a week at Besançon--you know, it's the splendid old chateau Louis Treize used to love to visit. It's still the seat of the Saint Berthè family, and the present Marquis, a _dear_ friend of ours, is such a wonderful, fine old nobleman--so simple and gracious and full of epigrams. He really ought to wear lace and ruffles and a beautiful peruke. At any rate, as I was saying, he has asked us down. But mamma has to go to England to see papa before he sails, and I thought you'd love to visit the chateau--you and Dory. It's so poetic--and historic, too."