ou, dear Enguerrand, are a born Parisian,
every inch of you: and a born Parisian is, whatever be thought to the
contrary, the best manager in the world. He alone achieves the difficult
art of uniting thrift with show. It is your Provincial who comes to
Paris in the freshness of undimmed youth, who sows his whole life on
its barren streets. I guess the rest: Alain is ruined." Enguerrand, who
certainly was so far a born Parisian that with all his shrewdness and
savoir faire, he had a wonderfully sympathetic heart, very easily moved,
one way or the other--Enguerrand winced at his elder kinsman's words
complimentarily reproachful, and said in unwonted tones of humility:
"Cousin, you are cruel, but you are in the right. I did not calculate
sufficiently on the chances of Alain's head being turned. Hear my
excuse. He seemed to me so much more thoughtful than most at our age
are, so much more stately and proud; well, also so much more pure, so
impressed with the responsibilities of station, so bent on retaining
the old lands in Bretagne; by habit and rearing so simple and
self-denying,--that I took it for granted he was proof against stronger
temptations than those which a light nature like my own puts aside with
a laugh. And at first I had no reason to think myself deceived, when,
some months ago, I heard that he was getting into debt, losing at play,
paying court to female vampires, who drain the life-blood of those on
whom they fasten their fatal lips. Oh, then I spoke to him earnestly!"

"And in vain?"

"In vain. A certain Chevalier de Finisterre, whom you may have heard
of--"

"Certainly, and met; a friend of Louvier's--"

"The same man--has obtained over him an influence which so far subdues
mine, that he almost challenged me when I told him his friend was a
scamp. In fine, though Alain and I have not actually quarrelled, we pass
each other with, 'Bon jour, mon ami.'"

"Hum! My dear Enguerrand, you have done all you could. Flies will be
flies, and spiders, spiders, till the earth is destroyed by a comet.
Nay, I met a distinguished naturalist in America who maintained that we
shall find flies and spiders in the next world."

"You have been in America? Ah, true--I remember, California!"

"Where have I not been? Tush! music--shall I hear our fair hostess
sing?"

"I am afraid not to-night: because Madame S---------- is to favour us,
and the Signorina makes it a rule not to sing at her own house when
professional art