with money to manure their lands, and the parvenus of to-day want the
same to feather their nests."

"That's exactly what Monsieur Thuillier was saying to me this
morning," remarked la Peyrade, boldly.

"Vinet's father," said Dutocq, "married a Demoiselle de Chargeboeuf
and has caught the opinions of the nobility; he wants a fortune at any
price; his wife spends money regally."

"Oh!" said Thuillier, in whom the jealousy between the two classes of
the bourgeoisie was fully roused, "take offices away from those
fellows and they'd fall back where they came."

Mademoiselle was knitting with such precipitous haste that she seemed
to be propelled by a steam-engine.

"Take my place, Monsieur Dutocq," said Madame Minard, rising. "My feet
are cold," she added, going to the fire, where the golden ornaments of
her turban made fireworks in the light of the Saint-Aurora wax-candles
that were struggling vainly to light the vast salon.

"He is very small fry, that young substitute," said Madame Minard,
glancing at Mademoiselle Thuillier.

"Small fry!" cried la Peyrade. "Ah, madame! how witty!"

"But madame has so long accustomed us to that sort of thing," said the
handsome Thuillier.