ence--"

"I have told him all that," said Henri, "and he answered that that
contract was precisely what he had come about, and that his business
concerned you more than himself."

"You had better go and see him, Thuillier, and get rid of him in
double-quick," said Brigitte; "that's shorter than talking to Henri, who
is always an orator."

If la Peyrade had been consulted he might not have joined in that
advice, for he had had more than one specimen of the spokes some occult
influence was putting into the wheels of his marriage, and the present
visit seemed to him ominous.

"Show him into my study," said Thuillier, following his sister's advice;
and, opening the door which led from the salon to the study, he went to
receive his importunate visitor.

Brigitte immediately applied her eye to the keyhole.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed, "there's my imbecile of a Thuillier offering
him a chair! and away in a corner, too, where I can't hear a word they
say!"

La Peyrade was walking about the room with an inward agitation covered
by an appearance of great indifference. He even went up to the three
women, and made a few lover-like speeches to Celeste, who received them
with a smiling, happy air in keeping with the role she was playing. As
for Colleville, he was killing the time by composing an anagram on the
six words of "le journal 'l'Echo de la Bievre,'" for which he had found
the following version, little reassuring (as far as it went) for the
prospects of that newspaper: "O d'Echo, jarni! la bevue reell"--but as
the final "e" was lacking to complete the last word, the work was not
altogether as satisfactory as it should have been.

"He's taking snuff!" said Brigitte, her eye still glued to the keyhole;
"his gold snuff-box beats Minard's--though, perhaps, it is only
silver-gilt," she added, reflectively. "He's doing the talking, and
Thuillier is sitting there listening to him like a buzzard. I shall go
in and tell them they can't keep ladies waiting that way."

But just as she put her hand on the lock she heard Thuillier's visitor
raise his voice, and that made her look through the keyhole again.

"He is standing up; he's going," she said with satisfaction.

But a moment later she saw she had made a mistake; the little old man
had only left his chair to walk up and down the room and continue the
conversation with greater freedom.

"My gracious! I shall certainly go in," she said, "and tell Thuillier we
are going wi