is the curb of the
beast. Now, feel your own pulse! Have you the strength to play the
tyrant,--you, so gentle, so kind a friend, so confiding; you, at whom
I have laughed, but whom I love, and love enough to reveal to you my
science? For this is science. Yes, it proceeds from a science which
the Germans are already calling Anthropology. Ah! if I had not already
solved the mystery of life by pleasure, if I had not a profound
antipathy for those who think instead of act, if I did not despise the
ninnies who are silly enough to believe in the truth of a book, when
the sands of the African deserts are made of the ashes of I know not
how many unknown and pulverized Londons, Romes, Venices, and Parises, I
would write a book on modern marriages made under the influence of the
Christian system, and I'd stick a lantern on that heap of sharp stones
among which lie the votaries of the social 'multiplicamini.' But the
question is, Does humanity require even an hour of my time? And besides,
isn't the more reasonable use of ink that of snaring hearts by writing
love-letters?--Well, shall you bring the Comtesse de Manerville here,
and let us see her?"

"Perhaps," said Paul.

"We shall still be friends," said de Marsay.

"If--" replied Paul.

"Don't be uneasy; we will treat you politely, as Maison-Rouge treated
the English at Fontenoy."

CHAPTER II. THE PINK OF FASHION

Though the foregoing conversation affected the Comte de Manerville
somewhat, he made it a point of duty to carry out his intentions, and he
returned to Bordeaux during the winter of the year 1821.

The expenses he incurred in restoring and furnishing his family mansion
sustained the reputation for elegance which had preceded him. Introduced
through his former connections to the royalist society of Bordeaux, to
which he belonged as much by his personal opinions as by his name and
fortune, he soon obtained a fashionable pre-eminence. His knowledge
of life, his manners, his Parisian acquirements enchanted the Faubourg
Saint-Germain of Bordeaux. An old marquise made use of a term formerly
in vogue at court to express the flowery beauty of the fops and beaux of
the olden time, whose language and demeanor were social laws: she called
him "the pink of fashion." The liberal clique caught up the word and
used it satirically as a nickname, while the royalist party continued to
employ it in good faith.

Paul de Manerville acquitted himself gloriously of the obli