lot the barque!"

The Baron, who was extremely pleased, had pressed his hands, thanked him,
and called him an obliging fellow. And now turning towards Fonsegue, he
exclaimed: "I say, you must make one of us this evening. Oh! it's
necessary. I want something imposing round Silviane. Duthil will
represent the Chamber, you journalism, and I finance--" But he suddenly
paused on seeing Gerard, who, with a somewhat grave expression, was
leisurely picking his way through the sea of skirts. "Gerard, my friend,"
said the Baron, after beckoning to him, "I want you to do me a service."
And forthwith he told him what was in question; how the influential
critic had been prevailed upon to attend a dinner which would decide
Silviane's future; and how it was the duty of all her friends to rally
round her.

"But I can't," the young man answered in embarrassment. "I have to dine
at home with my mother, who was rather poorly this morning."

"Oh! a sensible woman like your mother will readily understand that there
are matters of exceptional importance. Go home and excuse yourself. Tell
her some story, tell her that a friend's happiness is in question." And
as Gerard began to weaken, Duvillard added: "The fact is, that I really
want you, my dear fellow; I must have a society man. Society, you know,
is a great force in theatrical matters; and if Silviane has society with
her, her triumph is certain."

Gerard promised, and then chatted for a moment with his uncle, General de
Bozonnet, who was quite enlivened by that throng of women, among whom he
had been carried hither and thither like an old rudderless ship. After
acknowledging the amiability with which Madame Fonsegue had listened to
his stories, by purchasing an autograph of Monseigneur Martha from her
for a hundred francs, he had quite lost himself amid the bevy of girls
who had passed him on, one to another. And now, on his return from them,
he had his hands full of lottery tickets: "Ah! my fine fellow," said he,
"I don't advise you to venture among all those young persons. You would
have to part with your last copper. But, just look! there's Mademoiselle
Camille beckoning to you!"

Camille, indeed, from the moment she had perceived Gerard, had been
smiling at him and awaiting his approach. And when their glances met he
was obliged to go to her, although, at the same moment, he felt that
Eve's despairing and entreating eyes were fixed upon him. The girl, who
fully realised that her