appearance, it has
assuredly degenerated. People behave badly everywhere, but this is the
only city in Europe where it is deemed right to do so."

"Since when have you taken up the trade of moralist, Master Morlache?"
said Norwood, with a sneer.

"I 'll answer that question," broke in D'Esmonde. "Since the exchange on
England has fallen to forty-three and a half, Morlache sees his clients
diminish, and is consequently as angry with vice as he had been with its
opposite, if the same result had come to pass."

"I own," said the Jew, with a sneer, "the present order of things is far
more profitable to the confessional than to the _comptoir_."

"That's the truth, I've no doubt of it," broke in Norwood, laughing. "A
low tariff has given a great impulse to the trade of wickedness."

"Taking your own illustration, my Lord, we are 'Protectionists,'" said
D'Esmonde; "whereas you Protestants are the 'Free-traders' in vice."

"A plague on both your houses, say I," cried Norwood, yawning.
"So, then, Morlache, neither you nor I would find this a desirable
residence?"

"I fear it will not repay either of us, my Lord," said the Jew, with a
sly look.

"The world is growing wonderfully wide awake," said Norwood. "When I
entered life, any fellow with a neat hand at billiards, a fair knowledge
of _ecarte_ or short whist, good whiskers, and a well-cut waistcoat,
might have eked out a pretty existence without any risk, and very little
exertion. But see what the march of intelligence has done! There 's
not an Eton boy, not an unfledged 'sub' in a marching regiment, not an
unpaid attache at a small court could n't compete with you now in any of
these high acquirements. I do not fret myself usually about what is to
come after _my_ time; but I really wonder how the next generation will
get on at all."

"Civilization moves like the pendulum, my Lord," said D'Esmonde; "the
next swing will be retrograde. And, by the way, that reminds me of
Russia, and Russia of Prince Midchekoff. Is it true that he is recalled,
Morlache?"

"Not that I know. That report is always circulated when there are no
dinners at the villa. Just as Marshal Soult is said to have won or lost
the battle of Toulouse according to the momentary estimation he is held
in."

"You'll hear for certain, my Lord," said D'Esmonde, addressing Norwood;
"You are going up there to-night?"

Norwood muttered an assent, and waited to see how this sally was to end.

"Ah! you are