which became the color of
dregs of wine after a glass of brandy.

M. Gaufre, although very practical and a churchwarden at St. Sulpice, had
always had a taste for liaisons. His wife, during her life--he had been a
widower for a dozen years--had been one of those unfortunate beings of
whom people said, "That poor lady is to be pitied; she never can keep a
servant." She had in vain taken girls from the provinces, without beauty
and certified to be virtuous. One by one--a Flemish girl, an Alsatian,
three Nivernaise, two from Picardy; even a young girl from Beauce, hired
on account of her certificate as "the best-behaved girl in the
village"--they were unsparingly devoured by the minotaur of the Rue
Servandoni. All were turned out of doors, with a conscientious blow in
the face, by the justly irritated spouse. When he became a widower he
gave himself up to his liaisons in perfect security, but without scandal,
of course, as to his passion for servants. New country-girls, wearing
strange headdresses, responded favorably, in various patois, to his
propositions. An Alsatian bow reigned six months; a Breton cap more than
a year; but at last what must inevitably take place happened. The
beautiful Berenice definitely bound with fetters of iron the old
libertine. She was now all-powerful in the house, where she reigned
supreme through her beauty and her talent for cooking; and as she saw her
master's face grow more congested at each repast, she made her
preparations for the future. Who could say but that M. Gaufre, a real
devotee after all, would develop conscientious scruples some day, and end
in a marriage, in extremis?

M. Violette knew all this; nevertheless it was important that Amedee
should not be forgotten by his old relative, and sometimes, though
rarely, he would leave his office a little earlier than usual, call for
his son as he left the Batifol boarding-school, and take him to the Rue
Servandoni.

The large drawing-rooms, transformed into a shop, where one could still
see, upon forgotten panels, rococo shepherds offering doves to their
shepherdesses, were always a new subject of surprise to little Amedee.
After passing through the book-shop, where thousands of little volumes
with figured gray and yellow covers crowded the shelves, and boys in ecru
linen blouses were rapidly tying up bundles, one entered the jewellery
department. There, under beautiful glass cases, sparkled all the
glittering display and showy luxu