mong
the bankers.'--You know why?" added the Marquis, with a meaning smile.

"No," said the Duke.

"He is smitten with that little Mme Keller, Gondreville's daughter; she
is only lately married, and has a great vogue, they say, in that set."

"Well, Antoinette does not find time heavy on her hands, it seems,"
remarked the Vidame.

"My affection for that little woman has driven me to find a singular
pastime," replied the Princess, as she returned her snuff-box to her
pocket.

"Dear aunt, I am extremely vexed," said the Duke, stopping short in his
walk. "Nobody but one of Bonaparte's men could ask such an indecorous
thing of a woman of fashion. Between ourselves, Antoinette might have
made a better choice."

"The Montriveaus are a very old family and very well connected, my
dear," replied the Princess; "they are related to all the noblest houses
of Burgundy. If the Dulmen branch of the Arschoot Rivaudoults should
come to an end in Galicia, the Montriveaus would succeed to the Arschoot
title and estates. They inherit through their great-grandfather.

"Are you sure?"

"I know it better than this Montriveau's father did. I told him about
it, I used to see a good deal of him; and, Chevalier of several orders
though he was, he only laughed; he was an encyclopaedist. But his
brother turned the relationship to good account during the emigration.
I have heard it said that his northern kinsfolk were most kind in every
way----"

"Yes, to be sure. The Comte de Montriveau died at St. Petersburg,"
said the Vidame. "I met him there. He was a big man with an incredible
passion for oysters."

"However many did he eat?" asked the Duc de Grandlieu.

"Ten dozen every day."

"And did they not disagree with him?"

"Not the least bit in the world."

"Why, that is extraordinary! Had he neither the stone nor gout, nor any
other complaint, in consequence?"

"No; his health was perfectly good, and he died through an accident."

"By accident! Nature prompted him to eat oysters, so probably he
required them; for up to a certain point our predominant tastes are
conditions of our existence."

"I am of your opinion," said the Princess, with a smile.

"Madame, you always put a malicious construction on things," returned
the Marquis.

"I only want you to understand that these remarks might leave a wrong
impression on a young woman's mind," said she, and interrupted herself
to exclaim, "But this niece, this niece of mine!"

"De