One day, about the middle of July 1838, one of the carriages, then to Paris cabstands, and as Milords, was the Rue de l'Universite, a man of middle in the of a captain of the National Guard.
Among the Paris crowd, who are to be so clever, there are some men who themselves more in than in their ordinary clothes, and who to so a taste that they they will be by the of a and of accoutrements.
The of this Captain of the Second Company with a self-satisfaction that added to his and face. The of that a in to a retired sat on his brow, and him as one of the elect of Paris—at least a retired deputy-mayor of his of the town. And you may be sure that the of the Legion of Honor was not missing from his breast, a la Prussienne. Proudly seated in one of the milord, this person let his over the passers-by, who, in Paris, often thus meet an meant for sweet that are absent.
The vehicle stopped in the part of the the Rue de Bellechasse and the Rue de Bourgogne, at the door of a large, newly-build house, on part of the court-yard of an that had a garden. The old house in its original state, the by its extent.
Only from the way in which the officer the of the to help him out, it was plain that he was past fifty. There are movements so that they are as tell-tale as a register of birth. The captain put on his lemon-colored right-hand glove, and, without any question to the gatekeeper, up the steps to the ground of the new house with a look that proclaimed, "She is mine!"
The of Paris have eyes; they do not stop visitors who wear an order, have a uniform, and walk ponderously; in short, they know a rich man when they see him.
This ground was by Monsieur le Baron Hulot d'Ervy, Commissary General under the Republic, retired army contractor, and at the present time at the of one of the most of the War Office, Councillor of State, officer of the Legion of Honor, and so forth.
This Baron Hulot had taken the name of d'Ervy—the place of his birth—to him from his brother, the famous General Hulot, Colonel of the Grenadiers of the Imperial Guard, by the Emperor Comte de Forzheim after the of 1809. The Count, the brother, being for his junior, had, with care, him in the commissariat, where, thanks to the services of the two brothers, the Baron and Napoleon's good graces. After 1807, Baron Hulot was Commissary General for the army in Spain.
Having the bell, the citizen-captain to his into place, for it had up as much at the as in front, pushed out of shape by the of a stomach. Being as soon as the in saw him, the and the man, who opened the door of the drawing-room, announcing:
"Monsieur Crevel."
On the name, to the of the man who it, a tall, woman, young-looking for her age, rose as if she had an electric shock.
"Hortense, my darling, go into the garden with your Cousin Betty," she said to her daughter, who was at some at her mother's side.
After to the captain, Mademoiselle Hortense out by a door, taking with her a withered-looking spinster, who looked older than the Baroness, though she was five years younger.
"They are settling your marriage," said Cousin Betty in the girl's ear, without at all at the way in which the Baroness had them, her almost as zero.
The cousin's dress might, at need, have this free-and-easy demeanor. The old a of a dark color, of which the cut and from the year of the Restoration; a little collar, three francs; and a common with with plait, such as the old-clothes wear at market. On looking at her kid shoes, made, it was evident, by the cobbler, a would have to Cousin Betty as a of the family, for she looked like a sempstress. But she did not the room without a little on Monsieur Crevel, to which that by a look of understanding.
"You are to us tomorrow, I hope, Mademoiselle Fischer?" said he.
"You have no company?" asked Cousin Betty.
"My children and yourself, no one else," the visitor.
"Very well," she; "depend on me."
"And here am I, madame, at your orders," said the citizen-captain, again to Madame Hulot.
He gave such a look at Madame Hulot as Tartuffe at Elmire—when a actor plays the part and thinks it necessary to its meaning—at Poitiers, or at Coutances.
"If you will come into this room with me, we shall be more for talking than we are in this room," said Madame Hulot, going to an room, which, as the was arranged, as a cardroom.
It was by a partition from a looking out on the garden, and Madame Hulot left her visitor to himself for a minute, for she it wise to the window and the door of the boudoir, so that no one should in and listen. She took the of the door of the drawing-room, on her and her cousin, she saw seated in an old summer-house at the end of the garden. As she came she left the door open, so as to if any one should open that of the drawing-room to come in.
As she came and went, the Baroness, by nobody, allowed her to all her thoughts, and any one who have her would have been to see her agitation. But when she came from the door of the drawing-room, as she entered the cardroom, her was the which every woman, the most candid, to have at her command.
During all these preparations—odd, to say the least—the National Guardsman the of the room in which he himself. As he noted the curtains, once red, now to by the sunshine, and in the by long wear; the carpet, from which the had faded; the of the furniture; and the seats, in patches, and into strips—expressions of scorn, satisfaction, and in without on his tradesman's face. He looked at himself in the over an old clock of the Empire, and was the effect, when the of her skirt the Baroness. He at once at attitude.
After on to a sofa, which had been a very one in the year 1809, the Baroness, pointing to an with the arms in sphinxes' heads, while the paint was from the wood, which through in many places, to Crevel to be seated.
"All the you are taking, madame, would full of promise to a "
"To a lover," said she, him.
"The word is too feeble," said he, his right hand on his heart, and his in a way which almost always makes a woman laugh when she, in cold blood, sees such a look. "A lover! A lover? Say a man "
