e of the company took place about ten o'clock, through the
long antechamber, Mademoiselle Cormon conducting certain of her
favorite guests to the portico. There the groups parted; some followed
the Bretagne road towards the chateau; the others went in the
direction of the river Sarthe. Then began the usual conversation,
which for twenty years had echoed at that hour through this particular
street of Alencon. It was invariably:--

"Mademoiselle Cormon looked very well to-night."

"Mademoiselle Cormon? why, I thought her rather strange."

"How that poor abbe fails! Did you notice that he slept? He does not
know what cards he holds; he is getting very absent-minded."

"We shall soon have the grief of losing him."

"What a fine night! It will be a fine day to-morrow."

"Good weather for the apple-blossoms."

"You beat us; but when you play with Monsieur de Valois you never do
otherwise."

"How much did he win?"

"Well, to-night, three or four francs; he never loses."

"True; and don't you know there are three hundred and sixty-five days
a year? At that price his gains are the value of a farm."

"Ah! what hands we had to-night!"

"Here you are at home, monsieur and madame, how lucky you are, while
we have half the town to cross!"

"I don't pity you; you could afford a carriage, and dispense with the
fatigue of going on foot."

"Ah, monsieur! we have a daughter to marry, which takes off one wheel,
and the support of our son in Paris carries off another."

"You persist in making a magistrate of him?"

"What else can be done with a young man? Besides, there's no shame in
serving the king."

Sometimes a discussion on ciders and flax, always couched in the same
terms, and returning at the same time of year, was continued on the
homeward way. If any observer of human customs had lived in this
street, he would have known the months and seasons by simply
overhearing the conversations.

On this occasion it was exclusively jocose; for du Bousquier, who
chanced to march alone in front of the groups, was humming the
well-known air,--little thinking of its appropriateness,--"Tender
woman! hear the warble of the birds," etc. To some, du Bousquier was
a strong man and a misjudged man. Ever since he had been confirmed in
his present office by a royal decree, Monsieur du Ronceret had been in
favor of du Bousquier. To others the purveyor seemed dangerous,--a man
of bad habits, capable of anything. In the provinces, as i