en they see a stranger, "Is he one of us?"

"This is our neighbor," said the old lady, pointing to Hippolyte.
"Monsieur is a celebrated painter, whose name must be known to you in
spite of your indifference to the arts."

The old man saw his friend's mischievous intent in suppressing the name,
and bowed to the young man.

"Certainly," said he. "I heard a great deal about his pictures at the
last Salon. Talent has immense privileges." he added, observing the
artist's red ribbon. "That distinction, which we must earn at the cost
of our blood and long service, you win in your youth; but all glory
is of the same kindred," he said, laying his hand on his Cross of
Saint-Louis.

Hippolyte murmured a few words of acknowledgment, and was silent again,
satisfied to admire with growing enthusiasm the beautiful girl's head
that charmed him so much. He was soon lost in contemplation, completely
forgetting the extreme misery of the dwelling. To him Adelaide's face
stood out against a luminous atmosphere. He replied briefly to the
questions addressed to him, which, by good luck, he heard, thanks to
a singular faculty of the soul which sometimes seems to have a double
consciousness. Who has not known what it is to sit lost in sad or
delicious meditation, listening to its voice within, while attending to
a conversation or to reading? An admirable duality which often helps us
to tolerate a bore! Hope, prolific and smiling, poured out before him a
thousand visions of happiness; and he refused to consider what was going
on around him. As confiding as a child, it seemed to him base to analyze
a pleasure.

After a short lapse of time he perceived that the old lady and her
daughter were playing cards with the old gentleman. As to the satellite,
faithful to his function as a shadow, he stood behind his friend's chair
watching his game, and answering the player's mute inquiries by
little approving nods, repeating the questioning gestures of the other
countenance.

"Du Halga, I always lose," said the gentleman.

"You discard badly," replied the Baronne de Rouville.

"For three months now I have never won a single game," said he.

"Have you the aces?" asked the old lady.

"Yes, one more to mark," said he.

"Shall I come and advise you?" said Adelaide.

"No, no. Stay where I can see you. By Gad, it would be losing too much
not to have you to look at!"

At last the game was over. The gentleman pulled out his purse, and,
throwing tw