pastures and
cattle, or merchants doing a wholesale business in linen, among whom,
as he hoped, he might find a wealthy wife. In fact, all his hopes now
converged to the perspective of a fortunate marriage. He was not
without a certain financial ability, which many persons used to their
profit. Like a ruined gambler who advises neophytes, he pointed out
enterprises and speculations, together with the means and chances of
conducting them. He was thought a good administrator, and it was often
a question of making him mayor of Alencon; but the memory of his
underhand jobbery still clung to him, and he was never received at the
prefecture. All the succeeding governments, even that of the Hundred
Days, refused to appoint him mayor of Alencon,--a place he coveted,
which, could he have had it, would, he thought, have won him the hand
of a certain old maid on whom his matrimonial views now turned.

Du Bousquier's aversion to the Imperial government had thrown him at
first into the royalist circles of Alencon, where he remained in spite
of the rebuffs he received there; but when, after the first return of
the Bourbons, he was still excluded from the prefecture, that
mortification inspired him with a hatred as deep as it was secret
against the royalists. He now returned to his old opinions, and became
the leader of the liberal party in Alencon, the invisible manipulator
of elections, and did immense harm to the Restoration by the
cleverness of his underhand proceedings and the perfidy of his outward
behavior. Du Bousquier, like all those who live by their heads only,
carried on his hatreds with the quiet tranquillity of a rivulet,
feeble apparently, but inexhaustible. His hatred was that of a negro,
so peaceful that it deceived the enemy. His vengeance, brooded over
for fifteen years, was as yet satisfied by no victory, not even that
of July, 1830.

It was not without some private intention that the Chevalier de Valois
had turned Suzanne's designs upon Monsieur du Bousquier. The liberal
and the royalist had mutually divined each other in spite of the wide
dissimulation with which they hid their common hope from the rest of
the town. The two old bachelors were secretly rivals. Each had formed
a plan to marry the Demoiselle Cormon, whom Monsieur de Valois had
mentioned to Suzanne. Both, ensconced in their idea and wearing the
armor of apparent indifference, awaited the moment when some lucky
chance might deliver the old maid over