poor old fellow hated churches and never set foot in one, but you had better make him out a ‘pious vassal.’  Bring in, gracefully, that he sang the song of Simeon at the accession of Charles X. The Comte d’Artois thought very highly of La Billardiere, for he co-operated in the unfortunate affair of Quiberon and took the whole responsibility on himself.  You know about that, don’t you?  La Billardiere defended the King in a printed pamphlet in reply to an impudent history of the Revolution written by a journalist; you can allude to his loyalty and devotion.  But be very careful what you say; weigh your words, so that the other newspapers can’t laugh at us; and bring me the article when you’ve written it.  Were you at Rabourdin’s yesterday?”

“Yes, monseigneur,” said du Bruel, “Ah! beg pardon.”

“No harm done,” answered des Lupeaulx, laughing.

“Madame Rabourdin looked delightfully handsome,” added du Bruel.  “There are not two women like her in Paris.  Some are as clever as she, but there’s not one so gracefully witty.  Many women may even be handsomer, but it would be hard to find one with such variety of beauty.  Madame Rabourdin is far superior to Madame Colleville,” said the vaudevillist, remembering des Lupeaulx’s former affair.  “Flavie owes what she is to the men about her, whereas Madame Rabourdin is all things in herself.  It is wonderful too what she knows; you can’t tell secrets in Latin before her.  If I had such a wife, I know I should succeed in everything.”

“You have more mind than an author ought to have,” returned des Lupeaulx, with a conceited air.  Then he turned round and perceived Dutocq.  “Ah, good-morning, Dutocq,” he said.  “I sent for you to lend me your Charlet—­if you have the whole complete.  Madame la comtesse knows nothing of Charlet.”

Du Bruel retired.

“Why do you come in without being summoned?” said des Lupeaulx, harshly, when he and Dutocq were left alone.  “Is the State in danger that you must come here at ten o’clock in the morning, just as I am going to breakfast with his Excellency?”

“Perhaps it is, monsieur,” said Dutocq, dryly.  “If I had had the honor to see you earlier, you would probably have not been so willing to support Monsieur Rabourdin, after reading his opinion of you.”

Dutocq opened his coat, took a paper from the left-hand breast-pocket and laid it on des Lupeaulx’s desk, pointing to a marked passage.  Then he went to the door and slipped the bolt, fearing interruption.  While he was thus employed, the secretary-general read the opening sentence of the article, which was as follows: