Chamber
reassembles, his savings-bank bill."

This bill was to give to savings-banks the authority to lend money to
communes, a proceeding which would take from Montessuy's business houses
their best customers.

"Berthier," asked the financier, "are you resolutely hostile to that
bill?"

Berthier nodded.

Montessuy rose, placed his hand on the Deputy's shoulder, and said:

"My dear Berthier, I have an idea that the Cabinet will fall at the
beginning of the session."

He approached his daughter.

"I have received an odd letter from Le Menil."

Therese rose and closed the door that separated the parlor from the
billiard-room.

She was afraid of draughts, she said.

"A singular letter," continued Montessuy. "Le Menil will not come to
Joinville. He has bought the yacht Rosebud. He is on the Mediterranean,
and can not live except on the water. It is a pity. He is the only one
who knows how to manage a hunt."

At this instant Dechartre came into the room with Count Martin, who,
after beating him at billiards, had acquired a great affection for him
and was explaining to him the dangers of a personal tax based on the
number of servants one kept.

CHAPTER XXXI

AN UNWELCOME APPARITION

A pale winter sun piercing the mists of the Seine, illuminated the dogs
painted by Oudry on the doors of the dining room.

Madame Martin had at her right Garain the Deputy, formerly Chancellor,
also President of the Council, and at her left Senator Loyer. At Count
Martin-Belleme's right was Monsieur Berthier-d'Eyzelles. It was an
intimate and serious business gathering. In conformity with Montessuy's
prediction, the Cabinet had fallen four days before. Called to the Elysee
the same morning, Garain had accepted the task of forming a cabinet. He
was preparing, while taking breakfast, the combination which was to be
submitted in the evening to the President. And, while they were
discussing names, Therese was reviewing within herself the images of her
intimate life.

She had returned to Paris with Count Martin at the opening of the
parliamentary session, and since that moment had led an enchanted life.

Jacques loved her; he loved her with a delicious mingling of passion and
tenderness, of learned experience and curious ingenuity. He was nervous,
irritable, anxious. But the uncertainty of his humor made his gayety more
charming. That artistic gayety, bursting out suddenly like a flame,
caressed love without offending it.