he has such a delicate soul, that he
would die of it in a few days."

"I am off, then," said Crevel, kissing the Baroness' hand. "But what
has that unhappy Hulot done?"

"He has swindled the Government."

"Good Heavens! I fly, madame; I understand, I admire you!"

Crevel bent one knee, kissed Madame Hulot's skirt, and vanished,
saying, "You will see me soon."

Unluckily, on his way from the Rue Plumet to his own house, to fetch
the securities, Crevel went along the Rue Vanneau, and he could not
resist going in to see his little Duchess. His face still bore an
agitated expression.

He went straight into Valerie's room, who was having her hair dressed.
She looked at Crevel in her glass, and, like every woman of that sort,
was annoyed, before she knew anything about it, to see that he was
moved by some strong feeling of which she was not the cause.

"What is the matter, my dear?" said she. "Is that a face to bring in
to your little Duchess? I will not be your Duchess any more, monsieur,
no more than I will be your 'little duck,' you old monster."

Crevel replied by a melancholy smile and a glance at the maid.

"Reine, child, that will do for to-day; I can finish my hair myself.
Give me my Chinese wrapper; my gentleman seems to me out of sorts."

Reine, whose face was pitted like a colander, and who seemed to have
been made on purpose to wait on Valerie, smiled meaningly in reply,
and brought the dressing-gown. Valerie took off her combing-wrapper;
she was in her shift, and she wriggled into the dressing-gown like a
snake into a clump of grass.

"Madame is not at home?"

"What a question!" said Valerie.--"Come, tell me, my big puss, have
_Rives Gauches_ gone down?"

"No."

"They have raised the price of the house?"

"No."

"You fancy that you are not the father of our little Crevel?"

"What nonsense!" replied he, sure of his paternity.

"On my honor, I give it up!" said Madame Marneffe. "If I am expected
to extract my friend's woes as you pull the cork out of a bottle of
Bordeaux, I let it alone.--Go away, you bore me."

"It is nothing," said Crevel. "I must find two hundred thousand francs
in two hours."

"Oh, you can easily get them.--I have not spent the fifty thousand
francs we got out of Hulot for that report, and I can ask Henri for
fifty thousand--"

"Henri--it is always Henri!" exclaimed Crevel.

"And do you suppose, you great baby of a Machiavelli, that I will cast
off Henri? Would Fra