sted to real artists.

Repeating to every one that he was working for a great foreign lord,
whose orders he went to take every morning, he was free to indulge
his most extravagant fancies, without fearing jests or unpleasant
remarks.

Poor old man! The day when the last workman had driven in the
last nail, an attack of apoplexy carried him off, without giving
him time to say, "Oh!" Two days after, all his relatives from the
Limousin were swooping into Paris like a pack of wolves. Six
millions to divide: what a godsend! Litigation followed, as a
matter of course; and the house was offered for sale under a
judgment.

M. de Thaller bought it for two hundred and seventy-five thousand
francs,--about one-third what it had cost to build.

A month later he had moved into it; and the expenses which he
incurred to furnish it in a style worthy of the building itself
was the talk of the town. And yet he was not fully satisfied
with his purchase.

Unlike M. Parcimieux, he had no wish whatever to conceal his wealth.

What! he owned one of those exquisite houses which excite at once
the wonder and the envy of passers-by, and that house was hid
behind such a common-looking building!

"I must have that shanty pulled down," he said from time to time.

And then he thought of something else; and the "shanty" was still
standing on that evening, when, after leaving Maxence, M. de
Tregars presented himself at M. de Thaller's.

The servants had, doubtless, received their instructions; for, as
soon as Marius emerged from the porch of the front-house, the
porter advanced from his lodge, bent double, his mouth open to his
very ears by the most obsequious smile.

Without waiting for a question,

"The baron has not yet come home--," he said. "But he cannot be
much longer away; and certainly the baroness is at home for my
lord-marquis. Please, then, give yourself the trouble to pass."

And, standing aside, he struck upon the enormous gong that stood
near his lodge a single sharp blow, intended to wake up the
footman on duty in the vestibule, and to announce a visitor of
note. Slowly, but not without quietly observing every thing, M.
de Tregars crossed the courtyard, covered with fine sand,--they
would have powdered it with golden dust, if they had dared,--and
surrounded on all sides with bronze baskets, in which beautiful
rhododendrons were blossoming.

It was nearly six o'clock. The manager of the Mutual Credit dined
at