moustache of somewhat fairer color, and by the
melancholy eyes, dark and luminous, with their curled and drooping
lashes. These eyes gave rather a suggestion of sadness and inward
suffering, but when animated seemed to glow with the smouldering fire
of centuries.

"Pardon, Monsieur de Beauchamp," said Jean, upon being introduced to
him, "but mademoiselle appears to have forgotten me for art."

"Ah! and as if there were no art in making a salad!" exclaimed the
painter, as he shook hands with the other.

"Oh! la, la, la!" cried Mlle. Fouchette, wresting the dish from Jean's
grasp; "there would be precious little art in this if you made it!"
And she proceeded with the salad on her own account, using the two
bowls that had but recently served them for soup.

Monsieur de Beauchamp and Jean discussed the student "manifestations"
planned for the next day. The Dreyfusardes--a term by which all who
differed from the military regime were known--had announced a public
meeting, and a counter-demonstration had been called to not only
prevent that meeting but to publicly chastise such as dared to take
part in it.

No attempt was made to conceal these patriotic intentions from the
police. The walls blazed with flaming revolutionary posters. The
portrait of the Duc d'Orleans appeared over specious promises in case
of Restoration. The Royal Claimant was said to be concealed in Paris.
At any rate, his agents were busy. They were in league with the
Bonapartists, the Socialists, the Anti-Semites, against the things
that were, and called the combination Nationalists. They were really
Opportunists. The republic overthrown, they agreed to fight out their
rival claims to power between themselves.

The unfortunate Jew merely served them as a weapon. They were the real
traitors to their country. With the most fulsome adulation and the Jew
they courted the army and sought to lead it against the republic.

And the republic,--poor, weak, headless combination of
inconsistencies,--through a tricky and vacillating Ministry and a
bitter, factional Parliament, greatly encouraged the idea of any sort
of a change.

Popular intolerance had, after a farcical civil trial overawed by
military authority, driven the foremost writer of France into exile,
as it had Voltaire and Rousseau and many thousands of the best blood
of the French before him.

The many noble monuments of the Paris carrefours, representing the
elite of France, the heroes, the apo