m;
he is the Baron de Beauclair--a prettier name than Monge, n'est-ce pas?"

"But that is charming! Tell me more about this friend of yours," said
Madame de Sainfoy, rather eagerly.

This was a new view, a new possibility. Ratoneau knew what he was doing;
he had not forgotten the Prefect's remark at Les Chouettes, some days
before, as to Madame de Sainfoy's ambition of a place at Court for
herself, as lady-in-waiting to the Empress. For a minute or two he
swaggered on about his friend Monge; then suddenly turned again upon the
Comtesse.

"But my answer, madame! There, you must excuse me; I am a rough soldier;
I am not accustomed to wait for anything. When I want a thing, I ask for
it. When it is not given at once--"

"You take it, I suppose? Yes: the wonder is that you should ask at all!"
said Madame de Sainfoy.

Her look and smile seemed to turn the words, which might have been very
scornful, into an easy little jest; but none the less they were a
slight check on the airs of this conquering hero. He laughed.

"Well, madame, you are right, I withdraw the words. If you refuse my
request, I shall have to make my bow, I suppose. But you will not."

She leaned back with lowered eyelids, playing with her fan.

"At this moment," she said, "I can only give you a word of
advice--Patience, Monsieur le General. For myself I will speak frankly.
I am entirely loyal to the Empire and the Army; they are the glory of
France. I think a brave soldier is worthy of any woman. Personally, this
sudden idea of yours does not at all displease me. But I am not the only
or the chief person concerned. Monsieur de Sainfoy, too, has his own
ideas, and among them is an extreme indulgence of his daughter's
fancies. You observe, I am speaking to you in the frankest confidence. I
treat you as you treat me--" she glanced up and smiled. "Only this year,
in Paris, plans of mine have been spoilt in this way."

"But fortunately for me, madame!" exclaimed Ratoneau. "We will not
regret those plans, if you please. Shall I speak to Monsieur de Sainfoy
this evening?"

"No, I beg! Say nothing at all. Leave the affair in my hands. I promise,
I will do my best for you."

She spoke low and hurriedly, for her husband was walking up to the
retired corner where she and the General were sitting, and she, knowing
his humours so well, could see that he was surprised and a little angry
at the confidences which had been going on.

It was one of Herve's tires