These witticisms, fired in quick retort, and leading to the sort of giddy play that may be imagined, had given cause for the laughter which had added to the Baroness’ troubles by making her compare her daughter’s future lot with the present, when she was free to indulge the light-heartedness of youth.

“But to give you a gem which cost him six months of work, he must be under some great obligations to you?” said Hortense, in whom the silver seal had suggested very serious reflections.

“Oh, you want to know too much at once!” said her cousin.  “But, listen, I will let you into a little plot.”

“Is your lover in it too?”

“Oh, ho! you want so much to see him!  But, as you may suppose, an old maid like Cousin Betty, who had managed to keep a lover for five years, keeps him well hidden.—­Now, just let me alone.  You see, I have neither cat nor canary, neither dog nor a parrot, and the old Nanny Goat wanted something to pet and tease—­so I treated myself to a Polish Count.”

“Has he a moustache?”

“As long as that,” said Lisbeth, holding up her shuttle filled with gold thread.  She always took her lace-work with her, and worked till dinner was served.

“If you ask too many questions, you will be told nothing,” she went on.  “You are but two-and-twenty, and you chatter more than I do though I am forty-two—­not to say forty-three.”

“I am listening; I am a wooden image,” said Hortense.

“My lover has finished a bronze group ten inches high,” Lisbeth went on.  “It represents Samson slaying a lion, and he has kept it buried till it is so rusty that you might believe it to be as old as Samson himself.  This fine piece is shown at the shop of one of the old curiosity sellers on the Place du Carrousel, near my lodgings.  Now, your father knows Monsieur Popinot, the Minister of Commerce and Agriculture, and the Comte de Rastignac, and if he would mention the group to them as a fine antique he had seen by chance!  It seems that such things take the fancy of your grand folks, who don’t care so much about gold lace, and that my man’s fortune would be made if one of them would buy or even look at the wretched piece of metal.  The poor fellow is sure that it might be mistaken for old work, and that the rubbish is worth a great deal of money.  And then, if one of the ministers should purchase the group, he would go to pay his respects, and prove that he was the maker, and be almost carried in triumph!  Oh! he believes he has reached the pinnacle; poor young man, and he is as proud as two newly-made Counts.”

“Michael Angelo over again; but, for a lover, he has kept his head on his shoulders!” said Hortense.  “And how much does he want for it?”

“Fifteen hundred francs.  The dealer will not let it go for less, since he must take his commission.”

“Papa is in the King’s household just now,” said Hortense.  “He sees those two ministers every day at the Chamber, and he will do the thing —­I undertake that.  You will be a rich woman, Madame la Comtesse de Steinbock.”