before whose eminence I bow.  I content myself by simply suggesting this question in order to show the dangers which the banner of our friend must meet.  See for yourselves! the decease of our late honorable representative in the municipal council dates back scarcely one week, and already the arrondissement is being canvassed by inferior ambitions.  Such men put themselves forward to be seen at any price.  The writ of convocation will, probably, not take effect for a month to come.  Between now and then, imagine the intrigues!  I entreat you not to expose our friend Thuillier to the blows of his competitors; let us not deliver him over to public discussion, that modern harpy which is but the trumpet of envy and calumny, the pretext seized by malevolence to belittle all that is great, soil all that is immaculate and dishonor whatever is sacred.  Let us, rather, do as the Third Party is now doing in the Chamber,—­keep silence and vote!”

“He speaks well,” said Phellion to his neighbor Dutocq.

“And how strong the statement is!”

Envy had turned Minard and his son green and yellow.

“That is well said and very true,” remarked Minard.

“Unanimously adopted!” cried Colleville.  “Messieurs, we are men of honor; it suffices to understand each other on this point.”

“Whoso desires the end accepts the means,” said Phellion, emphatically.

At this moment, Mademoiselle Thuillier reappeared, followed by her two servants; the key of the cellar was hanging from her belt, and three bottles of champagne, three of hermitage, and one bottle of malaga were placed upon the table.  She herself was carrying, with almost respectful care, a smaller bottle, like a fairy Carabosse, which she placed before her.  In the midst of the hilarity caused by this abundance of excellent things—­a fruit of gratitude, which the poor spinster in the delirium of her joy poured out with a profusion which put to shame the sparing hospitality of her usual fortnightly dinners —­numerous dessert dishes made their appearance:  mounds of almonds, raisins, figs, and nuts (popularly known as the “four beggars"), pyramids of oranges, confections, crystallized fruits, brought from the hidden depths of her cupboards, which would never have figured on the table-cloth had it not been for the “candidacy.”

“Celeste, they will bring you a bottle of brandy which my father obtained in 1802; make an orange-salad!” cried Brigitte to her sister-in-law.  “Monsieur Phellion, open the champagne; that bottle is for you three.  Monsieur Dutocq, take this one.  Monsieur Colleville, you know how to pop corks!”

The two maids distributed champagne glasses, also claret glasses, and wine glasses.  Josephine also brought three more bottles of Bordeaux.

“The year of the comet!” cried Thuillier, laughing, “Messieurs, you have turned my sister’s head.”

“And this evening you shall have punch and cakes,” she said.  “I have sent to the chemists for some tea.  Heavens! if I had only known the affair concerned an election,” she cried, looking at her sister-in-law, “I’d have served the turkey.”