a man ripened by
passions, taught by experience, who knew men and things, to whom travel
and a certain faculty for observation had imparted an understanding of
European interests, of foreign cabinets, and of all the ramifications
of the great continental families. De Marsay convinced Maxime of the
necessity of doing himself credit; he taught him discretion, less as a
virtue than a speculation; he proved to him that the governing powers
would never abandon a solid, safe, elegant, and polished instrument.

"In politics," he said, blaming Maxime for having uttered a threat, "we
should never _blackmail_ but once."

Maxime was a man who could sound the depths of that saying.

De Marsay dead, Comte Maxime de Trailles had fallen back into his former
state of existence. He went to the baths every year and gambled; he
returned to Paris for the winter; but, though he received some large
sums from the depths of certain niggardly coffers, that sort of half-pay
to a daring man kept for use at any moment and possessing many secrets
of the art of diplomacy, was insufficient for the dissipations of a
life as splendid as that of the king of dandies, the tyrant of several
Parisian clubs. Consequently Comte Maxime was often uneasy about matters
financial. Possessing no property, he had never been able to consolidate
his position by being made a deputy; also, having no ostensible
functions, it was impossible for him to hold a knife at the throat of
any minister to compel his nomination as peer of France. At the present
moment he saw that Time was getting the better of him; for his lavish
dissipations were beginning to wear upon his person, as they had already
worn out his divers fortunes. In spite of his splendid exterior, he knew
himself, and could not be deceived about that self. He intended to "make
an end"--to marry.

A man of acute mind, he was under no illusion as to the apparent
consideration in which he was held; he well knew it was false. No women
were truly on his side, either in the great world of Paris or among the
bourgeoisie. Much secret malignity, much apparent good-humor, and
many services rendered were necessary to maintain him in his present
position; for every one desired his fall, and a run of ill-luck might at
any time ruin him. Once sent to Clichy or forced to leave the country
by notes no longer renewable, he would sink into the gulf where so
many political carcasses may be seen,--carcasses of men who find no
co