y his nephew's biography. Some shocks affect the
heart, others the head; but in this case the cousin's blow fell on the
digestive organs and did little harm, for the old man's stomach was
sound. Like a true disciple of Saint Thomas, Monsieur de Bourbonne came
to Paris, unknown to Octave, resolved to make full inquiries as to
his nephew's insolvency. Having many acquaintances in the faubourg
Saint-Germain, among the Listomeres, the Lenoncourts, and the
Vandenesses, he heard so much gossip, so many facts and falsities, about
Madame Firmiani that he resolved to be presented to her under the
name of de Rouxellay, that of his estate in Touraine. The astute old
gentleman was careful to choose an evening when he knew that Octave
would be engaged in finishing a piece of work which was to pay him
well,--for this so-called lover of Madame Firmiani still went to her
house; a circumstance that seemed difficult to explain. As to Octave's
ruin, that, unfortunately, was no fable, as Monsieur de Bourbonne had at
once discovered.

Monsieur de Rouxellay was not at all like the provincial uncle at the
Gymnase. Formerly in the King's guard, a man of the world and a
favorite among women, he knew how to present himself in society with the
courteous manners of the olden time; he could make graceful speeches
and understand the whole Charter, or most of it. Though he loved the
Bourbons with noble frankness, believed in God as a gentleman should,
and read nothing but the "Quotidienne," he was not as ridiculous as the
liberals of his department would fain have had him. He could hold his
own in the court circle, provided no one talked to him of "Moses
in Egypt," nor of the drama, or romanticism, or local color, nor of
railways. He himself had never got beyond Monsieur de Voltaire, Monsieur
le Comte de Buffon, Payronnet, and the Chevalier Gluck, the Queen's
favorite musician.

"Madame," he said to the Marquise de Listomere, who was on his arm as
they entered Madame Firmiani's salons, "if this woman is my nephew's
mistress, I pity him. How can she live in the midst of this luxury, and
know that he is in a garret? Hasn't she any soul? Octave is a fool to
have given up such an estate as Villaines for a--"

Monsieur de Bourbonne belonged to the species Fossil, and used the
language of the days of yore.

"But suppose he had lost it at play?"

"Then, madame, he would at least have had the pleasure of gambling."

"And do you think he has had no ple