st making the Chevalier's acquaintance, and
said to me, in his blunt way, 'De Finisterre came to Paris with nothing;
he has succeeded to nothing; he belongs to no ostensible profession by
which anything can be made. But evidently now he has picked up a good
deal; and in proportion as any young associate of his becomes poorer,
De Finisterre seems mysteriously to become richer. Shun that sort of
acquaintance.'"

"Who is your sagacious adviser!"

"Duplessis."

"Ah, I thought so. That bird of prey fancies every other bird
looking out for pigeons. I fancy that Duplessis is, like all those
money-getters, a seeker after fashion, and De Finisterre has not
returned his bow."

"My dear Alain, I am to blame; nothing is so irritating as a dispute
about the worth of the men we like. I began it, now let it be dropped;
only make me one promise,--that if you should be in arrear, or if need
presses, you will come at once to me. It was very well to be absurdly
proud in an attic, but that pride will be out of place in your
appartement au premier."

"You are the best fellow in the world, Frederic, and I make you the
promise you ask," said Alain, cheerfully, but yet with a secret emotion
of tenderness and gratitude. "And now, mon cher, what day will you dine
with me to meet Raoul and Enguerrand, and some others whom you would
like to know?"

"Thanks, and hearty ones, but we move now in different spheres, and
I shall not trespass on yours. Je suis trop bourgeois to incur the
ridicule of le bourgeois gentilhomme."

"Frederic, how dare you speak thus? My dear fellow, my friends shall
honour you as I do."

"But that will be on your account, not mine. No; honestly that kind of
society neither tempts nor suits me. I am a sort of king in my own walk;
and I prefer my Bohemian royalty to vassalage in higher regions. Say no
more of it. It will flatter my vanity enough if you will now and then
descend to my coteries, and allow me to parade a Rochebriant as my
familiar crony, slap him on the shoulder, and call him Alain."

"Fie! you who stopped me and the English aristocrat in the Champs
Elysees, to humble us with your boast of having fascinated une grande
dame,--I think you said a duchesse."

"Oh," said Lemercier, conceitedly, and passing his hand through his
scented locks, "women are different; love levels all ranks. I don't
blame Ruy Blas for accepting the love of a queen, but I do blame him
for passing himself off as a noble,--a plagi