voted to Louis-Philippe, he is my idol; he is the august and
exact representative of the class on whom he founded his dynasty, and
I can never forget what he did for the trimming-makers by restoring the
National Guard----"

"When I hear you speak so, Monsieur Rivet, I cannot help wondering why
you are not made a deputy."

"They are afraid of my attachment to the dynasty," replied Rivet. "My
political enemies are the King's. He has a noble character! They are
a fine family; in short," said he, returning to the charge, "he is our
ideal: morality, economy, everything. But the completion of the Louvre
is one of the conditions on which we gave him the crown, and the civil
list, which, I admit, had no limits set to it, leaves the heart of Paris
in a most melancholy state.--It is because I am so strongly in favor
of the middle course that I should like to see the middle of Paris in
a better condition. Your part of the town is positively terrifying.
You would have been murdered there one fine day.--And so your Monsieur
Crevel has been made Major of his division! He will come to us, I hope,
for his big epaulette."

"I am dining with him to-night, and will send him to you."

Lisbeth believed that she had secured her Livonian to herself by cutting
him off from all communication with the outer world. If he could no
longer work, the artist would be forgotten as completely as a man buried
in a cellar, where she alone would go to see him. Thus she had two
happy days, for she hoped to deal a mortal blow at the Baroness and her
daughter.

To go to Crevel's house, in the Rue des Saussayes, she crossed the Pont
du Carrousel, went along the Quai Voltaire, the Quai d'Orsay, the Rue
Bellechasse, Rue de l'Universite, the Pont de la Concorde, and the
Avenue de Marigny. This illogical route was traced by the logic of
passion, always the foe of the legs.

Cousin Betty, as long as she followed the line of the quays, kept watch
on the opposite shore of the Seine, walking very slowly. She had guessed
rightly. She had left Wenceslas dressing; she at once understood that,
as soon as he should be rid of her, the lover would go off to the
Baroness' by the shortest road. And, in fact, as she wandered along by
the parapet of the Quai Voltaire, in fancy suppressing the river and
walking along the opposite bank, she recognized the artist as he came
out of the Tuileries to cross the Pont Royal. She there came up with
the faithless one, and could foll