n the
empty safe, which did not prevent our cashier, a great stickler for
routine, from changing the combination every two days, as if it
contained all the treasures of the Bank of France. M. Louis seemed to
enjoy my story. But the most astonishing thing was what little
Bois-l'Hery, with his Parisian street-arab's accent, told us of the
home life of his employers.

Marquis and Marquise de Bois-l'Hery, second floor, Boulevard Haussmann.
Furniture like the Tuileries, blue satin on all the walls, pictures,
mantel ornaments, curiosities, a genuine museum, I tell you!
overflowing on to the landings. Service very stylish: six servants,
chestnut-colored livery in winter, nankeen livery in summer. You see
those people everywhere,--at the small Monday parties, at the races, at
first nights, at ambassadors' balls, and their names always in the
newspapers, with remarks as to Madame's fine toilets and Monsieur's
amazing _chic_. Well! all that is nothing but flim-flam, veneer,
outside show, and if the marquis needed a hundred sous, no one would
loan them to him on his worldly possessions. The furniture is hired by
the fortnight from Fitily, the cocottes' upholsterer. The curiosities,
the pictures, belong to old Schwalbach, who sends his customers there
and makes them pay double price, because a man doesn't haggle when
he thinks he is buying from a marquis, an amateur. As for the
marchioness's dresses, the milliner and dress-maker furnish her with
them for exhibition every season, make her wear the new styles, a
little ridiculous sometimes, but instantly adopted by society, because
Madame is still a very beautiful woman, and of high repute in the
matter of fashion; she is what is called a _lanceuse_. And the
servants! Provisional like all the rest, changed every week at the
pleasure of the intelligence office, which sends them there to give
them practice before taking serious positions. They may have neither
sponsors nor certificates; they may have just come from prison or
elsewhere. Glanard, the great place-broker on Rue de la Paix, supplies
Boulevard Haussmann. The servants stay there one week, two weeks, long
enough to purchase recommendations from the marquis, who, mark you,
pays nothing and barely feeds them; for in that house the kitchen ovens
are cold most of the time, as Monsieur and Madame dine out almost every
evening, or attend balls at which supper is served. It is a positive
fact that there are people in Paris who take