f her rehabilitation, as
the world's contempt had of old weighed on her happiness.

One fine day, in May 1842, Madame de la Baudraye paid all her little
household debts and left a thousand crowns on top of the packet of
receipted bills. After sending her mother and the children away to the
Hotel de la Baudraye, she awaited Lousteau, dressed ready to leave the
house. When the deposed king of her heart came into dinner, she said:

"I have upset the pot, my dear. Madame de la Baudraye requests the
pleasure of your company at the _Rocher de Cancale_."

She carried off Lousteau, quite bewildered by the light and easy manners
assumed by the woman who till that morning has been the slave of his
least whim, for she too had been acting a farce for two months past.

"Madame de la Baudraye is figged out as if for a first night," said
he--_une premiere_, the slang abbreviation for a first performance.

"Do not forget the respect you owe to Madame de la Baudraye," said Dinah
gravely. "I do not mean to understand such a word as _figged out_."

"Didine a rebel!" said he, putting his arm round her waist.

"There is no such person as Didine; you have killed her, my dear," she
replied, releasing herself. "I am taking you to the first performance of
_Madame la Comtesse de la Baudraye_."

"It is true, then, that our insect is a peer of France?"

"The nomination is to be gazetted in this evening's _Moniteur_, as I am
told by Monsieur de Clagny, who is promoted to the Court of Appeal."

"Well, it is quite right," said the journalist. "The entomology of
society ought to be represented in the Upper House."

"My friend, we are parting for ever," said Madame de la Baudraye,
trying to control the trembling of her voice. "I have dismissed the
two servants. When you go in, you will find the house in order, and no
debts. I shall always feel a mother's affection for you, but in secret.
Let us part calmly, without a fuss, like decent people.

"Have you had a fault to find with my conduct during the past six
years?"

"None, but that you have spoiled my life, and wrecked my prospects,"
said he in a hard tone. "You have read Benjamin Constant's book very
diligently; you have even studied the last critique on it; but you
have read with a woman's eyes. Though you have one of those superior
intellects which would make a fortune of a poet, you have never dared to
take the man's point of view.

"That book, my dear, is of both sexes.--We agr