ard jump in her chair; "to humiliate
me, dishonor me--me, his old professor! Am I in need of charity? Has
Picot (Nepomucene), to whom his wife brought a dowry of one hundred
thousand francs, ever stretched out his palm to any one? But in these
days nothing is respected. Old fellows, as they call us, our religion
and our good faith is taken advantage of so that these youths may say
to the public: 'Old drivellers, don't you see now they are good for
nothing? It needs _us_, the young generation, _us_, the moderns, _us_,
Young France, to bring them up on a bottle.' Young greenhorn! let me see
_you_ try to feed _me_! Old drivellers know more in their little finger
than you in your whole brain, and you'll never be worth us, paltry
little intriguer that you are! However, I know my day of vengeance will
come; that young Phellion can't help ending badly; what he did to-day,
reading a statement to the Academy, under my name, was forgery, forgery!
and the law will send him to the galleys for that."

"True," said Colleville, "forgery of a public star."

Brigitte, who quaked for her glasses, and whose nerves were exacerbated
by the monstrous consumption of cakes and wine, now gave the signal to
return to the salon. Besides, she had heard the door-bell ring several
times, announcing the arrival of guests for the evening. The question
then was how to transplant the professor, and Colleville politely
offered him his arm.

"No, monsieur," he said, "you must allow me to stay where I am. I am
not dressed for a party, and besides, a strong light hurts my eyes.
Moreover, I don't choose to give myself as a spectacle; it will be
best that my interview with Felix Phellion should take place between
'four-eyes,' as they say."

"Well, let him alone, then," said Brigitte to Colleville.

No one insisted,--the old man having, unconsciously, pretty nigh
discrowned himself in the opinion of the company. But before leaving,
the careful housewife removed everything that was at all fragile from
his reach; then, by way of a slight attention, she said:--

"Shall I send you some coffee?"

"I'll take it, madame," responded pere Picot, "and some cognac with it."

"Oh! parbleu! he takes everything," said Brigitte to the male domestic,
and she told the latter to keep an eye on the old madman.

When Brigitte returned to the salon she found that the Abbe Gondrin had
become the centre of a great circle formed by nearly the whole company,
and as she appro