l,
envy, and hate, qualities that give him a certain unmercifully cutting
eloquence. We pay him largely to attack our enemies, though it is often
painful to see principles we respect defended by such a pen. For this
wretch lives like a vagabond--is constantly in taverns--almost always
intoxicated--but, I must own, his power of abuse is inexhaustible, and
he is well versed in the most abstruse theological controversies, so
that he is sometimes very useful to us."

"Well! though Madame de la Sainte-Colombe is hard upon sixty, it appears
that Dumoulin has matrimonial views on her large fortune. You will do
well to inform Rodin, so that he may be on his guard against the dark
designs of this rascal. I really beg a thousand pardons for having so
long occupied you with such a paltry affair--but, talking of St. Mary's
Convent," added the doctor, addressing the princess, "may I take the
liberty of asking if your highness has been there lately?"

The princess exchanged a rapid glance with D'Aigrigny, and answered:
"Oh, let me see! Yes, I was there about a week ago."

"You will find great changes then. The wall that was next to my asylum
has been taken down, for they are going to build anew wing and a chapel,
the old one being too small. I must say in praise of Mdlle. Adrienne"
continued the doctor with a singular smile aside, "that she promised me
a copy of one of Raphael's Madonnas for this chapel."

"Really? very appropriate!" said the princess. "But here it is almost
noon, and M. Tripeaud has not come."

"He is the deputy-guardian of Mdlle. de Cardoville, whose property he
has managed, as former agent of the count-duke," said the marquis, with
evident anxiety, "and his presence here is absolutely indispensable. It
is greatly to be desired that his coming should precede that of Mdlle.
de Cardoville, who may be here at any moment."

"It is unlucky that his portrait will not do as well," said the doctor,
smiling maliciously, and drawing a small pamphlet from his pocket.

"What is that, doctor?" asked the princess.

"One of those anonymous sheets, which are published from time to time.
It is called the 'Scourge,' and Baron Tripeaud's portrait is drawn with
such faithfulness, that it ceases to be satire. It is really quite life
like; you have only to listen. The sketch is entitled: 'TYPE OF THE LYNX
SPECIES.'

"'The Baron Tripeaud.--This man, who is as basely humble towards his
social superiors, as he is insolent and coa