lain's confusion, till dinner was announced. Then there was
something grandiose in the frank bourgeois style wherewith he expanded
his napkin and twisted one end into his waistcoat; it was so manly a
renunciation of the fashions which a man so repandu in all circles might
be supposed to follow,--as if he were both too great and too much in
earnest for such frivolities. He was evidently a sincere bon vivant, and
M. Gandrin had no less evidently taken all requisite pains to gratify
his taste. The Montrachet served with the oysters was of precious
vintage; that vin de madere which accompanied the potage a la bisque
would have contented an American. And how radiant became Louvier's face
when amongst the entrees he came upon laitances de carpes! "The best
thing in the world," he cried, "and one gets it so seldom since the old
Rocher de Cancale has lost its renown. At private houses, what does one
get now? blanc de poulet, flavourless trash. After all, Gandrin, when we
lose the love-letters, it is some consolation that laitances de carpes
and sautes de foie gras are still left to fill up the void in our
hearts. Marquis, heed my counsel; cultivate betimes the taste for the
table,--that and whist are the sole resources of declining years. You
never met my old friend Talleyrand--ah, no! he was long before your
time. He cultivated both, but he made two mistakes. No man's intellect
is perfect on all sides. He confined himself to one meal a day, and
he never learned to play well at whist. Avoid his errors, my young
friend,--avoid them. Gandrin, I guess this pineapple is English,--it is
superb."

"You are right,--a present from the Marquis of H-------."

"Ah! instead of a fee, I wager. The Marquis gives nothing for nothing,
dear man! Droll people the English. You have never visited England, I
presume, cher Rochebriant?" The affable financier had already made vast
progress in familiarity with his silent fellow-guest.

When the dinner was over and the three men had reentered the salon for
coffee and liqueurs, Gandrin left Louvier and Alain alone, saying he was
going to his cabinet for cigars which he could recommend. Then Louvier,
lightly patting the Marquis on the shoulder, said with what the French
call effusion, "My dear Rochebriant, your father and I did not quite
understand each other. He took a tone of grand seigneur that sometimes
wounded me; and I in turn was perhaps too rude in asserting my
rights--as creditor, shall I say?