a race; but the man of
law, to whom horses and women were equally unknown quantities, simply
thought the Marquise a very lively and sparkling personage. So enchanted
was he to be in the company of a woman of fashion and a political
celebrity, that he was exerting himself to shine in conversation,
and taking the lady's forced smile for approbation, talked on with
unflagging spirit, till the Marquise was almost out of patience.

The master of the house, in concert with the lady, had more than once
maintained an eloquent silence when the lawyer expected a civil reply;
but these significant pauses were employed by the talkative nuisance in
looking for anecdotes in the fire. M. de Vandenesse had recourse to
his watch; the charming Marquise tried the experiment of fastening her
bonnet strings, and made as if she would go. But she did not go, and the
notary, blind and deaf, and delighted with himself, was quite convinced
that his interesting conversational powers were sufficient to keep the
lady on the spot.

"I shall certainly have that woman for a client," said he to himself.

Meanwhile the Marquise stood, putting on her gloves, twisting her
fingers, looking from the equally impatient Marquis de Vandenesse to the
lawyer, still pounding away. At every pause in the worthy man's fire of
witticisms the charming pair heaved a sigh of relief, and their looks
said plainly, "At last! He is really going!"

Nothing of the kind. It was a nightmare which could only end in
exasperating the two impassioned creatures, on whom the lawyer had
something of the fascinating effect of a snake on a pair of birds;
before long they would be driven to cut him short.

The clever notary was giving them the history of the discreditable ways
in which one du Tillet (a stockbroker then much in favor) had laid
the foundations of his fortune; all the ins and outs of the whole
disgraceful business were accurately put before them; and the narrator
was in the very middle of his tale when M. de Vandenesse heard the clock
strike nine. Then it became clear to him that his legal adviser was very
emphatically an idiot who must be sent forthwith about his business. He
stopped him resolutely with a gesture.

"The tongs, my lord Marquis?" queried the notary, handing the object in
question to his client.

"No, monsieur, I am compelled to send you away. Mme. d'Aiglemont wishes
to join her children, and I shall have the honor of escorting her."

"Nine o'clock a