closing of public balls and wine-shops. Thus, it is needless to
say that M. Bourigeau and his wife were treated by their fellow-
servants with the most servile adulation.

The owner of the house was not at home that evening, so that M.
Casimir, the count's head valet, was serving coffee for the
benefit of all the retainers. And while the company sipped the
fragrant beverage which had been generously tinctured with cognac,
provided by the butler, they all united in abusing their common
enemy, the master of the house. For the time being, a pert little
waiting-maid, with an odious turn-up nose, had the floor. She was
addressing her remarks to a big, burly, and rather insolent-
looking fellow, who had been added only the evening before to the
corps of footmen. "The place is really intolerable," she was
saying. "The wages are high, the food of the very best, the
livery just such as would show off a good-looking man to the best
advantage, and Madame Leon, the housekeeper, who has entire charge
of everything, is not too lynx-eyed."

"And the work?"

"A mere nothing. Think, there are eighteen of us to serve only
two persons, the count and Mademoiselle Marguerite. But then
there is never any pleasure, never any amusement here."

"What! is one bored then?"

"Bored to death. This grand house is worse than a tomb. No
receptions, no dinners--nothing. Would you believe it, I have
never seen the reception-rooms! They are always closed; and the