iage comes up.

The conversation, becoming lively as the penultimate entree was
reached, had turned naturally on the affair of the theatre and the
constitutionally sworn rector. In the first fervor of royalty, during
the year 1816, those who later were called Jesuits were all for the
expulsion of the Abbe Francois from his parish. Du Bousquier,
suspected by Monsieur de Valois of sustaining the priest and being at
the bottom of the theatre intrigues, and on whose back the adroit
chevalier would in any case have put those sins with his customary
cleverness, was in the dock with no lawyer to defend him. Athanase,
the only guest loyal enough to stand by du Bousquier, had not the
nerve to emit his ideas in the presence of those potentates of
Alencon, whom in his heart he thought stupid. None but provincial
youths now retain a respectful demeanor before men of a certain age,
and dare neither to censure nor contradict them. The talk, diminished
under the effect of certain delicious ducks dressed with olives, was
falling flat. Mademoiselle Cormon, feeling the necessity of
maintaining it against her own ducks, attempted to defend du
Bousquier, who was being represented as a pernicious fomenter of
intrigues, capable of any trickery.

"As for me," she said, "I thought that Monsieur du Bousquier cared
chiefly for childish things."

Under existing circumstances the remark had enormous success.
Mademoiselle Cormon obtained a great triumph; she brought the nose of
the Princess Goritza flat on the table. The chevalier, who little
expected such an apt remark from his Dulcinea, was so amazed that he
could at first find no words to express his admiration; he applauded
noiselessly, as they do at the Opera, tapping his fingers together to
imitate applause.

"She is adorably witty," he said to Madame Granson. "I always said
that some day she would unmask her batteries."

"In private she is always charming," replied the widow.

"In private, madame, all women have wit," returned the chevalier.

The Homeric laugh thus raised having subsided, Mademoiselle Cormon
asked the reason of her success. Then began the /forte/ of the gossip.
Du Bousquier was depicted as a species of celibate Pere Gigogne, a
monster, who for the last fifteen years had kept the Foundling
Hospital supplied. His immoral habits were at last revealed! these
Parisian saturnalias were the result of them, etc., etc. Conducted by
the Chevalier de Valois, a most able leader