saying—­and of a character suitable for an individual in my position.  This was, moreover, the general tone of the party.  Until towards the end of the entertainment I heard none of those unseemly jests, none of those scandalous stories which give so much amusement to the gentlemen of our Board; and I take pleasure in remarking that Bois l’Hery the coachman—­to cite only one example—­is much more observant of the proprieties than Bois l’Hery the master.

M. Noel alone was conspicuous by his familiar tone and by the liveliness of his repartees.  In him you have a man who does not hesitate to call things by their names.  Thus he remarked aloud to M. Francis, from one end of the room to the other:  “I say, Francis, that old swindler of yours has made a nice thing out of us again this week.”  And as the other drew himself up with a dignified air, M. Noel began to laugh.

“No offence, old chap.  The coffer is solid.  You will never get to the bottom of it.”

And it was on this that he told us of the loan of fifteen millions, to which I alluded above.

I was surprised, however, to see no sign of preparation for the supper which was mentioned on the cards of invitation, and I expressed my anxiety on the point to one of my charming nieces, who replied: 

“They are waiting for M. Louis.”

“M.  Louis?”

“What! you do not know M. Louis, the valet de chambre of the Duc de Mora?”

I then learned who this influential personage was, whose protection is sought by prefects, senators, even ministers, and who must make them pay stiffly for it, since with his salary of twelve hundred francs from the duke he has saved enough to produce him an income of twenty-five thousand, sends his daughters to the convent school of the Sacre Coeur, his son to the College Bourdaloue, and owns a chalet in Switzerland where all his family goes to stay during the holidays.

At this juncture the personage in question arrived; but nothing in his appearance would have suggested the unique position in Paris which is his.  Nothing of majesty in his deportment, a waistcoat buttoned up to the collar, a mean-looking and insolent manner, and a way of speaking without moving the lips which is very impolite to those who are listening to you.

He greeted the assembly with a slight nod of the head, extended a finger to M. Noel, and we were sitting there looking at each other, frozen by his grand manners, when a door opened at the farther end of the room and we beheld the supper laid out with all kinds of cold meats, pyramids of fruit, and bottles of all shapes beneath the light falling from two candelabra.

“Come, gentlemen, give the ladies your hands.”  In a minute we were at table, the ladies seated next the eldest or the most important among us all, the rest on their feet, serving, chattering, drinking from everybody’s glass, picking a morsel from any plate.  I had M. Francis for my neighbour and I had to listen to his grudges against M. Louis, of whose place he was envious, so brilliant was it in comparison with that which he occupied under the noble but worn-out old gambler who was his master.