Germaine rushed to it, clapped the receiver to her ear, and cried:
"Hello, is that you, Pierre? . . . Oh, it's Victoire, is it? . . .
Ah, some presents have come, have they? . . . Well, well, what are
they? . . . What! a paper-knife--another paper-knife! . . . Another
Louis XVI. inkstand--oh, bother! . . . Who are they from? . . . Oh,
from the Countess Rudolph and the Baron de Valery." Her voice rose
high, thrilling with pride.

Then she turned her face to her friends, with the receiver still at
her ear, and cried: "Oh, girls, a pearl necklace too! A large one!
The pearls are big ones!"

"How jolly!" said Marie.

"Who sent it?" said Germaine, turning to the telephone again. "Oh, a
friend of papa's," she added in a tone of disappointment. "Never
mind, after all it's a pearl necklace. You'll be sure and lock the
doors carefully, Victoire, won't you? And lock up the necklace in
the secret cupboard. . . . Yes; thanks very much, Victoire. I shall
see you to-morrow."

She hung up the receiver, and came away from the telephone frowning.

"It's preposterous!" she said pettishly. "Papa's friends and
relations give me marvellous presents, and all the swells send me
paper-knives. It's all Jacques' fault. He's above all this kind of
thing. The Faubourg Saint-Germain hardly knows that we're engaged."

"He doesn't go about advertising it," said Jeanne, smiling.