e,
attributes the change to the visit of a lady who called last night, and
again this morning,--he thought she came from the country."

"Could she have told him anything against Monsieur Moreau?--the best of
men, the most honest of men, a king of men, hey! He might have made a
deal more than he has out of his position, if he'd chosen; I can tell
you that."

"Then he was foolish," answered the valet, sententiously.

"Is Monsieur le Serizy going to live at Presles at last?" asked
Pierrotin; "for you know they have just repaired and refurnished the
chateau. Do you think it is true he has already spent two hundred
thousand francs upon it?"

"If you or I had half what he has spent upon it, you and I would be rich
bourgeois. If Madame la comtesse goes there--ha! I tell you what! no
more ease and comfort for the Moreaus," said the valet, with an air of
mystery.

"He's a worthy man, Monsieur Moreau," remarked Pierrotin, thinking of
the thousand francs he wanted to get from the steward. "He is a man who
makes others work, but he doesn't cheapen what they do; and he gets all
he can out of the land--for his master. Honest man! He often comes to
Paris and gives me a good fee: he has lots of errands for me to do in
Paris; sometimes three or four packages a day,--either from monsieur or
madame. My bill for cartage alone comes to fifty francs a month, more or
less. If madame does set up to be somebody, she's fond of her children;
and it is I who fetch them from school and take them back; and each time
she gives me five francs,--a real great lady couldn't do better than
that. And every time I have any one in the coach belonging to them or
going to see them, I'm allowed to drive up to the chateau,--that's all
right, isn't it?"

"They say Monsieur Moreau wasn't worth three thousand francs when
Monsieur le comte made him steward of Presles," said the valet.

"Well, since 1806, there's seventeen years, and the man ought to have
made something at any rate."

"True," said the valet, nodding. "Anyway, masters are very annoying; and
I hope, for Moreau's sake, that he has made butter for his bread."

"I have often been to your house in the rue de la Chaussee d'Antin
to carry baskets of game," said Pierrotin, "but I've never had the
advantage, so far of seeing either monsieur or madame."

"Monsieur le comte is a good man," said the footman, confidentially.
"But if he insists on your helping to keep up his cognito there's
something i