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is doing well where he is, he ought to stay there, and not be thinking



of the joy it would give his old father to see him again. The King's

service has the first claim."



Scarcely one of those present heard the words without a shudder.

Justice might give over a d'Esgrignon to the executioner's branding



iron. There was a dreadful pause. The old Marquise de Casteran could

not keep back a tear that stole down over her rouge, and turned her



head away to hide it.

Next day at noon, in the sunny weather, a whole excited population was



dispersed in groups along the high street, which ran through the heart

of the town, and nothing was talked of but the great affair. Was the



Count in prison or was he not?--All at once the Comte d'Esgrignon's

well-known tilbury was seen driving down the Rue Saint-Blaise; it had



evidently come from the Prefecture, the Count himself was on the box

seat, and by his side sat a charming young man, whom nobody



recognized. The pair were laughing and talking and in great spirits.

They wore Bengal roses in their button-holes. Altogether, it was a



theatrical surprise which words fail to describe.

At ten o'clock the court had decided to dismiss the charge, stating



their very sufficient reasons for setting the Count at liberty, in a

document which contained a thunderbolt for du Croisier, in the shape



of an INASMUCH that gave the Count the right to institute proceedings

for libel. Old Chesnel was walking up the Grand Rue, as if by



accident, telling all who cared to hear him that du Croisier had set

the most shameful of snares for the d'Esgrignons' honor, and that it



was entirely owing to the forbearance and magnanimity of the family

that he was not prosecuted for slander.



On the evening of that famous day, after the Marquis d'Esgrignon had

gone to bed, the Count, Mlle. Armande, and the Chevalier were left



with the handsome young page, now about to return to Paris. The

charming cavalier's sex could not be hidden from the Chevalier, and he



alone, besides the three officials and Mme. Camusot, knew that the

Duchess had been among them.



"The house is saved," began Chesnel, "but after this shock it will

take a hundred years to rise again. The debts must be paid now; you



must marry an heiress, M. le Comte, there is nothing left for you to

do."



"And take her where you may find her," said the Duchess.

"A second mesalliance!" exclaimed Mlle. Armande.



The Duchess began to laugh.

"It is better to marry than to die," she said. As she spoke she drew



from her waistcoat pocket a tiny crystal phial that came from the

court apothecary.



Mlle. Armande shrank away in horror. Old Chesnel took the fair

Maufrigneuse's hand, and kissed it without permission.



"Are you all out of your minds here?" continued the Duchess. "Do you

really expect to live in the fifteenth century when the rest of the



world has reached the nineteenth? My dear children, there is no

noblesse nowadays; there is no aristocracy left! Napoleon's Code Civil



made an end of the parchments, exactly as cannon made an end of feudal

castles. When you have some money, you will be very much more of



nobles than you are now. Marry anybody you please, Victurnien, you

will raise your wife to your rank; that is the most substantial



privilege left to the French noblesse. Did not M. de Talleyrand marry

Mme. Grandt without compromising his position? Remember that Louis



XIV. took the Widow Scarron for his wife."

"He did not marry her for her money," interposed Mlle. Armande.



"If the Comtesse d'Esgrignon were one du Croisier's niece, for

instance, would you receive her?" asked Chesnel.



"Perhaps," replied the Duchess; "but the King, beyond all doubt, would

be very glad to see her.--So you do not know what is going on in the



world?" continued she, seeing the amazement in their faces.

"Victurnien has been in Paris; he knows how things go there. We had



more influence under Napoleon. Marry Mlle. Duval, Victurnien; she will

be just as much Marquise d'Esgrignon as I am Duchesse de



Maufrigneuse."

"All is lost--even honor!" said the Chevalier, with a wave of the



hand.

"Good-bye, Victurnien," said the Duchess, kissing her lover on the



forehead; "we shall not see each other again. Live on your lands; that

is the best thing for you to do; the air of Paris is not at all good



for you."

"Diane!" the young Count cried despairingly.



"Monsieur, you forget yourself strangely," the Duchess retorted




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