"I had supposed that a
painter's work was generally fairly quiet?"

At this question Schinner colored, remembering the noise he had made.
Adelaide said no more, and spared him a falsehood by rising at the sound
of a carriage stopping at the door. She went into her own room, and
returned carrying a pair of tall gilt candlesticks with partly burnt wax
candles, which she quickly lighted, and without waiting for the bell
to ring, she opened the door of the outer room, where she set the
lamp down. The sound of a kiss given and received found an echo in
Hippolyte's heart. The young man's impatience to see the man who treated
Adelaide with so much familiarity was not immediately gratified;
the newcomers had a conversation, which he thought very long, in an
undertone, with the young girl.

At last Mademoiselle de Rouville returned, followed by two men, whose
costume, countenance, and appearance are a long story.

The first, a man of about sixty, wore one of the coats invented,
I believe, for Louis XVIII., then on the throne, in which the most
difficult problem of the sartorial art had been solved by a tailor
who ought to be immortal. That artist certainly understood the art
of compromise, which was the moving genius of that period of shifting
politics. Is it not a rare merit to be able to take the measure of the
time? This coat, which the young men of the present day may conceive to
be fabulous, was neither civil nor military, and might pass for civil or
military by turns. Fleurs-de-lis were embroidered on the lapels of the
back skirts. The gilt buttons also bore fleurs-de-lis; on the shoulders
a pair of straps cried out for useless epaulettes; these military
appendages were there like a petition without a recommendation. This
old gentleman's coat was of dark blue cloth, and the buttonhole had
blossomed into many colored ribbons. He, no doubt, always carried his
hat in his hand--a three cornered cocked hat, with a gold cord--for the
snowy wings of his powdered hair showed not a trace of its pressure. He
might have been taken for not more than fifty years of age, and seemed
to enjoy robust health. While wearing the frank and loyal expression
of the old emigres, his countenance also hinted at the easy habits of a
libertine, at the light and reckless passions of the Musketeers formerly
so famous in the annals of gallantry. His gestures, his attitude, and
his manner proclaimed that he had no intention of correcting himself of
h