e gone over to the liberals,--however, there's no need to discuss
political matters now,--these assassins of Charles X. have promised me
to support your appointment at the price of our acquiescence in one of
their amendments. All my batteries are manned. If they threaten us with
Baudoyer we shall say to the clerical phalanx, 'Such and such a paper
and such and such men will attack your measures and the whole press will
be against you' (for even the ministerial journals which I influence
will be deaf and dumb, won't they, Finot?). 'Appoint Rabourdin, a
faithful servant, and public opinion is with you--'"

"Hi, hi!" laughed Finot.

"So, there's no need to be uneasy," said des Lupeaulx. "I have arranged
it all to-night; the Grand Almoner must yield."

"I would rather have had less hope, and you to dinner," whispered
Celestine, looking at him with a vexed air which might very well pass
for an expression of wounded love.

"This must win my pardon," he returned, giving her an invitation to the
ministry for the following Tuesday.

Celestine opened the letter, and a flush of pleasure came into her face.
No enjoyment can be compared to that of gratified vanity.

"You know what the countess's Tuesdays are," said des Lupeaulx, with a
confidential air. "To the usual ministerial parties they are what the
'Petit-Chateau' is to a court ball. You will be at the heart of
power! You will see there the Comtesse Feraud, who is still in favor
notwithstanding Louis XVIII.'s death, Delphine de Nucingen, Madame de
Listomere, the Marquise d'Espard, and your dear Firmiani; I have had
her invited to give you her support in case the other women attempt to
black-ball you. I long to see you in the midst of them."

Celestine threw up her head like a thoroughbred before the race, and
re-read the invitation just as Baudoyer and Saillard had re-read the
articles about themselves in the newspapers, without being able to quaff
enough of it.

"/There/ first, and /next/ at the Tuileries," she said to des Lupeaulx,
who was startled by the words and by the attitude of the speaker, so
expressive were they of ambition and security.

"Can it be that I am only a stepping-stone?" he asked himself. He
rose, and went into Madame Rabourdin's bedroom, where she followed him,
understanding from a motion of his head that he wished to speak to her
privately.

"Well, your husband's plan," he said; "what of it?"

"Bah! the useless nonsense of an honest man!" s