was one which would not degrade either him or her. Hitherto,
indeed,--in her early days,--she had looked down on trade; but of
what benefit had her grand ideas been to her when she had returned
to England? She had tried her hand at English genteel society, and
no one had seemed to care for her. Therefore, she touched his arm
lightly with her fingers that she might encourage him.

He paused for a moment, as I have said, and became red; and then
feeling that he had shown some symptoms of shame--and feeling also,
probably, that it was unmanly in him to do so, he shook himself
slightly, raised his head up somewhat more proudly than was his
wont, looked her full in the face with more strength of character
than she had yet seen him assume; and then, declared his business.

"Madame," he said, in a very audible, but not in a loud voice,
"madame--je suis tailleur." And having so spoken, he turned
slightly from her and looked down over the valley towards Le Puy.

There was nothing more said upon the subject as they drove down from
the rock of Polignac back to the town. Immediately on receiving the
announcement, Mrs. Thompson found that she had no answer to make.
She withdrew her hand--and felt at once that she had received a
blow. It was not that she was angry with M. Lacordaire for being a
tailor; nor was she angry with him in that, being a tailor, he had
so addressed her. But she was surprised, disappointed, and
altogether put beyond her ease. She had, at any rate, not expected
this. She had dreamed of his being a banker; thought that, perhaps,
he might have been a wine merchant; but her idea had never gone
below a jeweller or watchmaker. When those words broke upon her
ear, "Madame, je suis tailleur," she had felt herself to be