is head.

"Good day, M. Vanel," said the latter, rousing himself from his
meditation.

"Good day, monseigneur," said Vanel, naturally.

"You should say monsieur, and not monseigneur," replied Colbert, gently.

"We give the title of monseigneur to ministers," returned Vanel, with
extreme self-possession, "and you are a minister."

"Not yet."

"You are so in point of fact, and I call you monseigneur accordingly;
besides you are seigneur for _me_, and that is sufficient; if you
dislike my calling you monseigneur before others, allow me, at least, to
call you so in private."

Colbert raised his head as if to read, or try to read, upon Vanel's
face how much or how little sincerity entered into this protestation
of devotion. But the counselor knew perfectly well how to sustain the
weight of such a look, even backed with the full authority of the title
he had conferred. Colbert sighed; he could not read anything in Vanel's
face, and Vanel might possibly be honest in his professions, but Colbert
recollected that this man, inferior to himself in every other respect,
was actually his master in virtue of the fact of his having a wife.
As he was pitying this man's lot, Vanel coldly drew from his pocket a
perfumed letter, sealed with Spanish wax, and held it towards Colbert,
saying, "A letter from my wife, monseigneur."

Colbert coughed, took, opened and read the letter, and then put it
carefully away in his pocket, while Vanel turned over the leaves of
the papers he had brought with him with an unmoved and unconcerned air.
"Vanel," he said suddenly to his _protege_, "you are a hard-working man,
I know; would twelve hours' daily labor frighten you?"

"I work fifteen hours every day."

"Impossible. A counselor need not work more than three hours a day in
parliament."

"Oh! I am working up some returns for a friend of mine in the department
of accounts, and, as I still have spare time on my hands, I am studying
Hebrew."

"Your reputation stands high in the parliament, Vanel."

"I believe so, monseigneur."

"You must not grow rusty in your post of counselor."

"What must I do to avoid it?"

"Purchase a high place. Mean and low ambitions are very difficult to
satisfy."

"Small purses are the most difficult ones to fill, monseigneur."

"What post have you in view?" said Colbert.

"I see none--not one."

"There is one, certainly, but one need be almost the king himself to be
able to buy it without inconvenience;