I have habitually enough power over Monsieur de l’Estorade to make this call to order effective; but I saw that my husband was displeased, and that instead of having made Monsieur Dorlange an easy diversion, I had called down upon his head the ill-humor of my ogre, who instantly turned upon him.

After telling him that much had been said about his candidacy during dinner at the ministry, Monsieur de l’Estorade began to show him all the reasons why he might expect an overwhelming defeat; namely, that Arcis-sur-Aube was one of the boroughs where the administration felt itself most secure; that a man of extraordinary political ability had already been sent there to manipulate the election, and had made a first report giving triumphant news of his success.  These were only generalities, to which Monsieur Dorlange replied with modesty, but also with the air of a man who had resolved who take his chances against all risks to which his election might be exposed.  Monsieur de l’Estorade then produced a final shaft which, under the circumstances, was calculated to have a marvellous effect, because it attacked both the candidate and his private life.

“Listen to me, my dear monsieur,” said my husband, “when a man starts on an electoral career he must remember that he stakes everything; his public life and also his private life.  Your adversaries will ransack your present and your past with a pitiless hand, and sorrow to him who has any dark spots to hide.  Now I ought not to conceal from you that to-night, at the ministers’, much was said about a little scandal which, while it may be venial in the life of an artist, takes proportions altogether more serious in that of the people’s representative.  You understand me, of course.  I refer to that handsome Italian woman whom you have in your house.  Take care; some puritanical elector whose own morality may be more or less problematical, is likely to call you to account for her presence.”

The reply made by Monsieur Dorlange was very dignified.

“To those,” he said, “who may arraign me on that detail of my private life I wish but one thing—­that they may have nothing worse upon their consciences.  If I had not already wearied madame on our way from the school with an interminable story, I would tell you the facts relating to my handsome Italian, and you would see, Monsieur le comte, that her presence in my house reflects in no way upon me.

“But,” returned Monsieur de l’Estorade, softening his tone, “you take my observation rather too seriously.  As I said just now, an artist may have a handsome model in his house—­that may be natural enough—­but she is not a usual piece of furniture in that of a legislator.”

“No, what seems more to their liking,” replied Monsieur Dorlange, with some heat, “is the good they can get for themselves out of a calumny accepted eagerly and without examination.  However, far from dreading inquiry on the subject you mention, I desire it, and the ministry will do me a great service if it will employ the extremely able political personage you say they have put upon my path to bring that delicate question before the electors.”