atre in his life! Yet the
control of the theatres is handed over to him, and naturally he's ever
doing the most stupid things!"

Monferrand, who was well informed on the Silviane question, remained
grave, and for a moment amused himself by trying to excite the Baron.
"Taboureau," said he, "is a somewhat dull and old-fashioned University
man, but at the department of Public Instruction he's in his proper
element."

"Oh! don't talk like that, my dear fellow! You are more intelligent than
that, you are not going to defend Taboureau as Barroux did. It's quite
true that I should very much like to see Silviane at the Comedie. She's a
very good girl at heart, and she has an amazing lot of talent. Would you
stand in her way if you were in Taboureau's place?"

"I? Good heavens, no! A pretty girl on the stage, why, it would please
everybody, I'm sure. Only it would be necessary to have a man of the same
views as were at the department of Instruction and Fine Arts."

His sly smile had returned to his face. The securing of that girl's
_debut_ was certainly not a high price to pay for all the influence of
Duvillard's millions. Monferrand therefore turned towards Fonsegue as if
to consult him. The other, who fully understood the importance of the
affair, was meditating in all seriousness: "A senator is the proper man
for Public Instruction," said he. "But I can think of none, none at all,
such as would be wanted. A man of broad mind, a real Parisian, and yet
one whose presence at the head of the University wouldn't cause too much
astonishment--there's perhaps Dauvergne--"

"Dauvergne! Who's he?" exclaimed Monferrand in surprise. "Ah! yes,
Dauvergne the senator for Dijon--but he's altogether ignorant of
University matters, he hasn't the slightest qualification."

"Well, as for that," resumed Fonsegue, "I'm trying to think. Dauvergne is
certainly a good-looking fellow, tall and fair and decorative. Besides,
he's immensely rich, has a most charming young wife--which does no harm,
on the contrary--and he gives real _fetes_ at his place on the Boulevard
St. Germain."

It was only with hesitation that Fonsegue himself had ventured to suggest
Dauvergne. But by degrees his selection appeared to him a real "find."
"Wait a bit! I recollect now that in his young days Dauvergne wrote a
comedy, a one act comedy in verse, and had it performed at Dijon. And
Dijon's a literary town, you know, so that piece of his sets a little
perfume of 'Be