ndred thousand francs?--that is immense! What could a woman ever
want with such a sum as a hundred thousand francs? As for us men, that
is quite a different matter."

"_Ma foi!_ I really do not know what she could want with such a sum as
that. But that's not my affair. Some arrears for the toilet, probably?
The tradespeople hungry and annoying,--that's her affair. And, as you
know very well, my dear Saint-Remy, that, as it was I who lent my wife
the money, it would have been in the worst possible taste in me to have
inquired the purpose for which she required it."

"Yet," said the viscount, with a laugh, "there is usually a singular
curiosity on the part of those who lend money to know what is done with
it."

"_Parbleu!_ Saint-Remy," said M. d'Harville, "you have such exquisite
taste, that you must help me to choose the ornament I intend for my
wife. Your approbation will consecrate my choice; your decisions are
sovereign in all that concerns the fashion."

The jeweller entered, bringing with him several caskets of gems in a
large leather bag.

"Ah, it is M. Baudoin!" said M. de Lucenay.

"At your grace's service."

"I am sure that it is you who ruined my wife with your dazzling and
infernal temptations," said M. de Lucenay.

"Madame la Duchesse has only had her diamonds reset this winter," said
the jeweller, slightly embarrassed; "and now, as I came to M. le
Marquis, I left them with her grace."

M. de Saint-Remy knew that Madame de Lucenay, to aid him, had changed
her jewels for false stones. He was disagreeably embarrassed at this
rencontre, but said, boldly:

"How curious these husbands are!--don't answer any inquisitive
interrogatories, M. Baudoin."

"Curious; _ma foi!_ no," said the duke; "it is my wife who pays. She can
afford all her whims, for she is much richer than I am."

During this conversation, M. Baudoin had displayed on a table several
superb necklaces of rubies and diamonds.

"What a fine water, and how exquisitely those stones are cut!" said Lord
Douglas.

"Alas, sir!" said the jeweller, "I employed in this work one of the most
skilful lapidaries in Paris, named Morel; but, unfortunately, he has
become insane, and I shall never find such another workman. My matcher
of stones says that, in all probability, it was his wretched condition
that deprived the man of his senses, poor fellow!"

"Wretched condition! What! do you trust diamonds to people in distress?"

"Certainly, sir; and t