Imperial Guard, to the
wines, toasts, and liqueurs of a dessert composed of choice and early
fruits, in pyramids that rivalled the obelisk of Thebes. By half-past
ten the little sub-clerk was in such a state that Georges packed him
into a coach, paid his fare, and gave the address of his mother to the
driver. The remaining ten, all as drunk as Pitt and Dundas, talked of
going on foot along the boulevards, considering the fine evening, to
the house of the Marquise de las Florentinas y Cabirolos, where, about
midnight, they might expect to find the most brilliant society of Paris.
They felt the need of breathing the pure air into their lungs; but,
with the exception of Georges, Giroudeau, du Bruel, and Finot, all
four accustomed to Parisian orgies, not one of the party could walk.
Consequently, Georges sent to a livery-stable for three open carriages,
in which he drove his company for an hour round the exterior boulevards
from Monmartre to the Barriere du Trone. They returned by Bercy, the
quays, and the boulevards to the rue de Vendome.

The clerks were fluttering still in the skies of fancy to which youth
is lifted by intoxication, when their amphitryon introduced them into
Florentine's salon. There sparkled a bevy of stage princesses, who,
having been informed, no doubt, of Frederic's joke, were amusing
themselves by imitating the women of good society. They were then
engaged in eating ices. The wax-candles flamed in the candelabra.
Tullia's footmen and those of Madame du Val-Noble and Florine, all in
full livery, where serving the dainties on silver salvers. The hangings,
a marvel of Lyonnaise workmanship, fastened by gold cords, dazzled
all eyes. The flowers of the carpet were like a garden. The richest
"bibelots" and curiosities danced before the eyes of the new-comers.

At first, and in the state to which Georges had brought them, the
clerks, and more particularly Oscar, believed in the Marquise de las
Florentinas y Cabirolos. Gold glittered on four card-tables in the
bed-chamber. In the salon, the women were playing at vingt-et-un, kept
by Nathan, the celebrated author.

After wandering, tipsy and half asleep, through the dark exterior
boulevards, the clerks now felt that they had wakened in the palace
of Armida. Oscar, presented to the marquise by Georges, was quite
stupefied, and did not recognize the danseuse he had seen at the Gaiete,
in this lady, aristocratically decolletee and swathed in laces, till she