Marguerite, in the garden, was spinning and singing. When she had
finished, Miss Bell said to Madame Martin:

"Darling, Monsieur Choulette has written me a perfectly beautiful letter.
He has told me that he is very celebrated. And I am glad to know it.
He said also: 'The glory of other poets reposes in myrrh and aromatic
plants. Mine bleeds and moans under a rain of stones and of oyster-
shells.' Do the French, my love, really throw stones at Monsieur
Choulette?"

While Therese reassured Miss Bell, Loyer, imperious and somewhat noisy,
caused the door of the box to be opened. He appeared wet and spattered
with mud.

"I come from the Elysee," he said.

He had the gallantry to announce to Madame Martin, first, the good news
he was bringing:

"The decrees are signed. Your husband has the Finances. It is a good
portfolio."

"The President of the Republic," inquired M. Martin--Belleme, "made no
objection when my name was pronounced?"

"No; Berthier praised the hereditary property of the Martins, your
caution, and the links with which you are attached to certain
personalities in the financial world whose concurrence may be useful to
the government. And the President, in accordance with Garain's happy
expression, was inspired by the necessities of the situation. He has