husband, "I think des Lupeaulx is in love."

"For the first time in his life, then," he replied, shrugging his
shoulders, as much as to inform his wife that des Lupeaulx did not
concern himself with such nonsense.

Just then the minister saw a deputy of the Right Centre enter the
room, and he left his wife abruptly to cajole an undecided vote. But
the deputy, under the blow of a sudden and unexpected disaster, wanted
to make sure of a protector and he had come to announce privately that
in a few days he should be compelled to resign. Thus forewarned, the
minister would be able to open his batteries for the new election
before those of the opposition.

The minister, or to speak correctly, des Lupeaulx had invited to
dinner on this occasion one of those irremovable officials who, as we
have said, are to be found in every ministry; an individual much
embarrassed by his own person, who, in his desire to maintain a
dignified appearance, was standing erect and rigid on his two legs,
held well together like the Greek hermae. This functionary waited near
the fireplace to thank the secretary, whose abrupt and unexpected
departure from the room disconcerted him at the moment when he was
about to turn a compliment. This official was the cashier of the
ministry, the only clerk who did not tremble when the government
changed hands.

At the time of which we write, the Chamber did not meddle shabbily
with the budget, as it does in the deplorable days in which we now
live; it did not contemptibly reduce ministerial emoluments, nor save,
as they say in the kitchen, the candle-ends; on the contrary, it