“This, again, Monsieur Crevel, is beside the mark; we are wandering from the point.  Still, to dispose of it finally, it may be said that if my son gets into office, if he has you made an officer of the Legion of Honor and councillor of the municipality of Paris, you, as a retired perfumer, will not have much to complain of——­”

“Ah! there we are again, madame!  Yes, I am a tradesman, a shopkeeper, a retail dealer in almond-paste, eau-de-Portugal, and hair-oil, and was only too much honored when my only daughter was married to the son of Monsieur le Baron Hulot d’Ervy—­my daughter will be a Baroness!  This is Regency, Louis XV., (Eil-de-boeuf—­quite tip-top!—­very good.) I love Celestine as a man loves his only child—­so well indeed, that, to preserve her from having either brother or sister, I resigned myself to all the privations of a widower—­in Paris, and in the prime of life, madame.  But you must understand that, in spite of this extravagant affection for my daughter, I do not intend to reduce my fortune for the sake of your son, whose expenses are not wholly accounted for—­in my eyes, as an old man of business.”

“Monsieur, you may at this day see in the Ministry of Commerce Monsieur Popinot, formerly a druggist in the Rue des Lombards——­”

“And a friend of mine, madame,” said the ex-perfumer.  “For I, Celestin Crevel, foreman once to old Cesar Birotteau, brought up the said Cesar Birotteau’s stock; and he was Popinot’s father-in-law.  Why, that very Popinot was no more than a shopman in the establishment, and he is the first to remind me of it; for he is not proud, to do him justice, to men in a good position with an income of sixty thousand francs in the funds.”

“Well then, monsieur, the notions you term ‘Regency’ are quite out of date at a time when a man is taken at his personal worth; and that is what you did when you married your daughter to my son.”

“But you do not know how the marriage was brought about!” cried Crevel.  “Oh, that cursed bachelor life!  But for my misconduct, my Celestine might at this day be Vicomtesse Popinot!”

“Once more have done with recriminations over accomplished facts,” said the Baroness anxiously.  “Let us rather discuss the complaints I have found on your strange behavior.  My daughter Hortense had a chance of marrying; the match depended entirely on you; I believed you felt some sentiments of generosity; I thought you would do justice to a woman who has never had a thought in her heart for any man but her husband, that you would have understood how necessary it is for her not to receive a man who may compromise her, and that for the honor of the family with which you are allied you would have been eager to promote Hortense’s settlement with Monsieur le Conseiller Lebas.—­And it is you, monsieur, you have hindered the marriage.”

“Madame,” said the ex-perfumer, “I acted the part of an honest man.  I was asked whether the two hundred thousand francs to be settled on Mademoiselle Hortense would be forthcoming.  I replied exactly in these words:  ’I would not answer for it.  My son-in-law, to whom the Hulots had promised the same sum, was in debt; and I believe that if Monsieur Hulot d’Ervy were to die to-morrow, his widow would have nothing to live on.’—­There, fair lady.”