ected the artists for the new decorations
of the Hotel de Ville?'

'No,' said Mahoudeau, 'they are going to do so. I sha'n't get anything,
for I don't know anybody. Fagerolles himself is very anxious. If he
isn't here to-night, it's because matters are not going smoothly. Ah!
he has had his bite at the cherry; all that painting for millions is
cracking to bits!'

There was a laugh, expressive of spite finally satisfied, and even
Gagniere at the other end of the table joined in the sneering. Then they
eased their feelings in malicious words, and rejoiced over the sudden
fall of prices which had thrown the world of 'young masters' into
consternation. It was inevitable, the predicted time was coming,
the exaggerated rise was about to finish in a catastrophe. Since the
amateurs had been panic-stricken, seized with consternation like that
of speculators when a 'slump' sweeps over a Stock Exchange, prices were
giving way day by day, and nothing more was sold. It was a sight to
see the famous Naudet amid the rout; he had held out at first, he had
invented 'the dodge of the Yankee'--the unique picture hidden deep in
some gallery, in solitude like an idol--the picture of which he would
not name the price, being contemptuously certain that he could never
find a man rich enough to purchase it, but which he finally sold for two
or three hundred thousand francs to some pig-dealer of Chicago, who
felt glorious at carrying off the most expensive canvas of the year. But
those fine strokes of business were not to be renewed at present, and
Naudet, whose expenditure had increased with his gains, drawn on and
swallowed up in the mad craze which was his own work, could now hear
his regal mansion crumbling beneath him, and was reduced to defend it
against the assault of creditors.

'Won't you take some more mushrooms, Mahoudeau?' obligingly interrupted
Henriette.

The servant was now handing round the undercut. They ate, and emptied
the decanters; but their bitterness was so great that the best things
were offered without being tasted, which distressed the master and
mistress of the house.

'Mushrooms, eh?' the sculptor ended by repeating. 'No, thanks.' And he
added: 'The funny part of it all is, that Naudet is suing Fagerolles.
Oh, quite so! he's going to distrain on him. Ah! it makes me laugh! We
shall see a pretty scouring in the Avenue de Villiers among all those
petty painters with mansions of their own. House property will go fo