t before presenting him?

_Marquis_--For him in the first place, and then for his consent. He
lives in Lyons, and I expect him to-day or to-morrow. As soon as he is
presentable, I'll introduce him.

_Baroness_--Meanwhile, I'll tell the committee of your find.

_Marquis_--I beg you, no. With regard to the committee, dear Baroness, I
wish you'd use your influence in a matter which touches me.

_Baroness_--I have not much influence--

_Marquis_--Is that modesty, or the exordium of a refusal?

_Baroness_--If either, it's modesty.

_Marquis_--Very well, my charming friend. Don't you know that these
gentlemen owe you too much to refuse you anything?

_Baroness_--Because they meet in my parlor?

_Marquis_--That, yes; but the true, great, inestimable service you
render every day is to possess such superb eyes.

_Baroness_--It's well for you to pay attention to such things!

_Marquis_--Well for me, but better for these Solons whose compliments
don't exceed a certain romantic intensity.

_Baroness_--You are dreaming.

_Marquis_--What I say is true. That's why serious societies always rally
in the parlor of a woman, sometimes clever, sometimes beautiful. You are
both, Madame: judge then of your power!

_Baroness_--You are too complimentary: your cause must be detestable.

_Marquis_--If it was good I could win it for myself.

_Baroness_--Come, tell me, tell me.

_Marquis_--Well, then: we must choose an orator to the Chamber for our
Campaign against the University. I want them to choose--

_Baroness_--Monsieur Marechal?

_Marquis_--You are right.

_Baroness_--Do you really think so, Marquis? Monsieur Marechal?

_Marquis_--Yes, I know. But we don't need a bolt of eloquence, since
we'll furnish the address. Marechal reads well enough, I assure you.

_Baroness_--We made him deputy on your recommendation. That was a good
deal.

_Marquis_--Marechal is an excellent recruit.

_Baroness_--So you say.

_Marquis_--How disgusted you are! An old subscriber to the
Constitutionnel, a liberal, a Voltairean, who comes over to the enemy
bag and baggage. What would you have? Monsieur Marechal is not a man, my
dear: it's the stout _bourgeoisie_ itself coming over to us. I love this
honest _bourgeoisie_, which hates the revolution, since there is no more
to be gotten out of it; which wants to stem the tide which brought it,
and make over a little feudal France to its own profit. Let it draw our
chestnuts from the fire if