arly dear to him. The
celebrated Chateau Dianet was about to be visited by the guests at
Tourdestelle. In common with some French philosophers and English
matrons, he cherished a sentimental sad enthusiasm for royal concubines;
and when dilating upon one among them, the ruins of whose family's
castle stood in the neighbourhood-Agrees, who was really a kindly soul,
though not virtuous--M. Livret had been traversed by Beauchamp with
questions as to the condition of the people, the peasantry, that were
sweated in taxes to support these lovely frailties. They came oddly from
a man in the fire of youth, and a little old gentleman somewhat seduced
by the melting image of his theme might well blink at him to ask, of
what flesh are you, then? His historic harem was insulted. Personally
too, the fair creature picturesquely soiled, intrepid in her
amorousness, and ultimately absolved by repentance (a shuddering
narrative of her sins under showers of salt drops), cried to him to
champion her. Excited by the supposed cold critical mind in Beauchamp,
M. Livret painted and painted this lady, tricked her in casuistical
niceties, scenes of pomp and boudoir pathos, with many shifting
sidelights and a risky word or two, until Renee cried out, 'Spare us the
esprit Gaulois, M. Livret!' There was much to make him angry with this
Englishman.

'The esprit Gaulois is the sparkle of crystal common sense, madame, and
may we never abandon it for a Puritanism that hides its face to conceal
its filthiness, like a stagnant pond,' replied M. Livret, flashing.

'It seems, then, that there are two ways of being objectionable,' said
Renee.

'Ah! Madame la Marquise, your wit is French,' he breathed low; 'keep
your heart so!'

Both M. Livret and M. d'Orbec had forgotten that when Count Henri
d'Henriel was received at Tourdestelle, the arrival of the Englishman
was pleasantly anticipated by them as an eclipse of the handsome
boy; but a foreign interloper is quickly dispossessed of all means of
pleasing save that one of taking his departure; and they now talked of
Count Henri's disgrace and banishment in a very warm spirit of sympathy,
not at all seeing why it should be made to depend upon the movements of
this M. Beauchamp, as it appeared to be. Madame d'Auffray heard some of
their dialogue, and hurried with a mouth full of comedy to Renee, who
did not reproach them for silly beings, as would be done elsewhere.
On the contrary, she appreciated a scene