ministerial bench,
who died of spite and suppressed ambition after '48 and the coup d'etat.
Besides, the Countess's brother, the Duc d'Eylau, married, in 1829, one
of the greatest heiresses in the Faubourg St. Germain; for his father,
the Marshal, whose character did not equal his bravery, attached himself
to every government, and carried his candle in the processions on Corpus
Christi Day under Charles X, and had ended by being manager of the
Invalides at the beginning of the July monarchy. Thanks to this
fortunate combination of circumstances, one met several great lords,
many Orleanists, a certain number of official persons, and even some
republicans of high rank, in this liberal drawing-room, where the
Countess, who was an admirable hostess, knew how to attract learned men,
writers, artists, and celebrities of all kinds, as well as young and
pretty women. As the season was late, the gathering this evening was not
large. However, neglecting the unimportant gentlemen whose ancestors
had perhaps been fabricated by Pere Issacar, Papillon pointed out to
his friend a few celebrities. One, with the badge of the Legion of
Honor upon his coat, which looked as if it had come from the stall of an
old-clothes man, was Forgerol, the great geologist, the most grasping of
scientific men; Forgerol, rich from his twenty fat sinecures, for
whom one of his confreres composed this epitaph in advance: "Here lies
Forgerol, in the only place he did not solicit."

That grand old man, with the venerable, shaky head, whose white, silky
hair seemed to shed blessings and benedictions, was M. Dussant du Fosse,
a philanthropist by profession, honorary president of all charitable
works; senator, of course, since he was one of France's peers, and who
in a few years after the Prussians had left, and the battles were over,
would sink into suspicious affairs and end in the police courts.

That old statesman, whose rough, gray hairs were like brushes for
removing cobwebs, a pedant from head to foot, leaning in his favorite
attitude against the mantel decorated only with flowers, by his mulish
obstinacy contributed much to the fall of the last monarchy. He was
respectfully listened to and called "dear master" by a republican
orator, whose red-hot convictions began to ooze away, and who, soon
after, as minister of the Liberal empire, did his best to hasten the
government's downfall.

Although Amedee was of an age to respect these notabilities, whom