ndent with gold and pearl in the dark chapel formed by the
hangings, amid the beautiful display of fresh flowers which told that
the season was spring despite the sulkiness of the sky. Ten paces
behind came the people of the duke's household; and then, in solitary
majesty, an official in a cloak carrying the decorations, a veritable
show-case of all the orders in the known world, crosses, ribbons of all
hues, which more than covered the black velvet cushion fringed with
silver.

The master of ceremonies came next, at the head of the committee of the
Corps Legislatif, a dozen or more deputies chosen by lot, in their midst
the tall figure of the Nabob, dressed for the first time in his official
costume, as if satirical fortune had chosen to give the representative
on trial a foretaste of all the joys of parliamentary life. The friends
of the deceased, who came next in line, formed a very limited
contingent, exceedingly well chosen to lay bare the superficiality and
emptiness of the existence of that great personage, reduced to the
companionship of a theatrical manager thrice insolvent, a picture-dealer
enriched by usury, a nobleman of unsavory reputation and a few
high-livers and boulevard idlers unknown to fame. Thus far everybody was
on foot and bareheaded; in the parliamentary committee a few black silk
skull caps had been timidly donned as they approached the populous
quarters. After the friends came the carriages.

At the obsequies of a great warrior, it is customary to include in the
funeral procession the hero's favorite horse, his battle-horse,
compelled to adapt to the snail-like pace of the cortege the prancing
gait which survives the smell of gunpowder and the waving of standards.
On this occasion Mora's great coupe, the "eight-spring" affair which
carried him to social or political gatherings, occupied the place of
that companion in victory, its panels draped in black, its lanterns
enveloped in long, light streamers of crepe, which floated to the ground
with an indescribable undulatory feminine grace. That was a new idea for
funerals, those veiled lanterns, the supreme manifestation of _chic_ in
mourning; and it was most fitting for that dandy to give one last lesson
in style to the Parisians who flocked to his funeral as to a Longchamps
of death.

Three more masters of ceremonies, then came the impassive official
display, always the same for marriages, deaths, baptisms, openings of
Parliament, receptions b