ished reputation and protect and defend it against all slights, and
devote his life to the attempt to restore lustre to the unclean thing
dulled by the touch of many fingers. In her days of prosperity Commander
de Jars and the king's treasurer had both fluttered round Mademoiselle de
Guerchi, and neither had fluttered in vain. Short as was the period
necessary to overcome her scruples, in as short a period it dawned on the
two candidates for her favour that each had a successful rival in the
other, and that however potent as a reason for surrender the doubloons of
the treasurer had been, the personal appearance of the commander had
proved equally cogent. As both had felt for her only a passing fancy and
not a serious passion, their explanations with each other led to no
quarrel between them; silently and simultaneously they withdrew from her
circle, without even letting her know they had found her out, but quite
determined to revenge, themselves on her should a chance ever offer.
However, other affairs of a similar nature had intervened to prevent
their carrying out this laudable intention; Jeannin had laid siege to a
more inaccessible beauty, who had refused to listen to his sighs for less
than 30 crowns, paid in advance, and de Jars had become quite absorbed by
his adventure with the convent boarder at La Raquette, and the business
of that young stranger whom he passed off as his nephew. Mademoiselle de
Guerchi had never seen them again; and with her it was out of sight out
of mind. At the moment when she comes into our story she was weaving her
toils round a certain Duc de Vitry, whom she had seen at court, but whose
acquaintance she had never made, and who had been absent when the
scandalous occurrence which led to her disgrace came to light. He was a
man of from twenty-five to twenty-six years of age, who idled his life
away: his courage was undoubted, and being as credulous as an old
libertine, he was ready to draw his sword at any moment to defend the
lady whose cause he had espoused, should any insolent slanderer dare to
hint there was a smirch on her virtue. Being deaf to all reports, he
seemed one of those men expressly framed by heaven to be the consolation
of fallen women; such a man as in our times a retired opera-dancer or a
superannuated professional beauty would welcome with open arms. He had
only one fault--he was married. It is true he neglected his wife,
according to the custom of the time, and