Vice was not so repugnant to her as an evil as it was as a blemish.

Her daughter had received from her those instincts of chastity which are oftener than we imagine hidden under the appearance of pride.

But these amiable women had one unfortunate caprice, not uncommon at this day among Parisians of their position.

Although rather clever, they bowed down, with the adoration of bourgeoises, before that aristocracy, more or less pure, that paraded up and down the Champs Elysees, in the theatres, at the race-course, and on the most frequented promenades, its frivolous affairs and rival vanities.
Virtuous themselves, they read with interest the daintiest bits of scandal and the most equivocal adventures that took place among the elite.

It was their happiness and their glory to learn the smallest details of the high life of Paris; to follow its feasts, speak in its slang, copy its toilets, and read its favorite books.