ris, the sculptor."

"An academician, also; that is what we want, and both are
'archi-decore'. You will write them, and tell them who I am, assistant
professor of the school of medicine, and doctor of the hospitals. I
promise you they will accept. I will ask my old master Carbonneau,
president of the academy of medicine; and Claudet, the ancient minister,
who, in his quality of deputy of my department, could not decline any
more than the others. And that will give us decorated witnesses, which
will look well in the newspapers."

It was not only in the newspapers they looked well, but also in the
church of Sainte-Marie des Batignolles.

"Glorient! Casparis! Carbonneau! Claudet! Art, science, and politics."

But the beauty and charm of the bride were not eclipsed by these
glorious witnesses. She entered on Glorient's arm, proud in her modesty,
radiant with grace.

While the priest celebrated mass at the altar, outside, before the door,
a man dressed in a costume of chestnut velvet, and wearing a felt hat,
walked up and down, smoking a pipe. It was the Count de Brigard, whose
principles forbade him to enter a church for either a wedding or a
funeral, and who walked up and down on the sidewalk with his disciples,
waiting to congratulate Saniel. When he appeared the Count rushed up to
him, and taking his hand pressed it warmly on separating him from his
wife, and saying:

"It is good, it is noble. Circumstances made this marriage; without them
it would not have taken place. I understand and I excuse it; I do more,
I applaud it. My dear friend, you are a man."

And as it was Wednesday, in the evening at Crozat's, he publicly
expressed his approbation, which, in the conditions in which it had been
offered, did not satisfy his conscience.

"Gentlemen, we have assisted to-day at a grand act of reparation, the
marriage of our friend Saniel to the sister of this poor boy, victim of
an injustice that cries for vengeance. One evening in this same room, I
spoke lightly of Saniel, some of you remember, perhaps, in spite of
the time that has passed. I wish to make this public reparation to him.
To-day he has shown himself a man of duty and of conscience, bravely
putting himself above social weaknesses."

"Is it not a social weakness," asked Glady, "to have chosen as witnesses
of this act of reparation persons who seem to have been selected for the
decorative side of their official positions?"

"Profound irony, on the contra