young gentlemen, who retired once more to their place at the window.
"You, who seem to know so well how to breed heroes in your own country,
can surely tell me how to bring up my sons to be an honor to their
race!"

"Your Highness," returned Mr. Morris, after an instant's hesitation,
and deeply moved at such a mark of esteem, "for Monsieur le Duc de
Chartres, who, in the inscrutable workings of Providence, may one day be
king"--the Duchess started and turned pale--"there is but one course to
follow, one education open. But for Monsieur de Beaujolais, why should
he not lend his talents to business enterprises, to great commercial
undertakings which make for the prosperity and stability of a country as
surely as even its army or navy? Thus also will he create happiness for
himself, because, if idle, at five and twenty, having enjoyed all that
rank and fortune can give him, he will be unhappy from not knowing what
to do with himself."

In spite of the democratic simplicity of the idea, the Duchess seemed
impressed and listened attentively to Mr. Morris, who was about to
explain more at length the advantages of such a career for the young
prince, when the conversation was interrupted by the lackey at the door
announcing the arrival of Madame la Comtesse de Flahaut.

At the name the Duchess threw a meaning look at Mr. Morris.

"Enfin! J'ai fait venir Madame de Flahaut ce soir. N'est ce pas que je
suis aimable?" she said, laughing, and speaking rapidly.

Mr. Morris bowed low before Madame la Duchesse, succeeding perfectly in
conveying by a look his appreciation without committing himself to
anything more serious.

"And did Your Royal Highness also send for a substitute in case I prove
wearying to Madame la Comtesse?" he asked, smiling, as he caught sight
of a gentleman who had followed Madame de Flahaut into the room and who
wore the ecclesiastical dress of a bishop. Perhaps what most attracted
Mr. Morris's notice was that he seemed a man of about his own age and,
like himself, lame. "Who is it?" he asked, in a low voice, as the two
approached.

"Monsieur de Talleyrand-Perigord, Bishop of Autun, who, I understand, is
in danger of losing his place in the affections of Madame on account of
Monsieur Morris," returned the Duchess, hurriedly, and glancing
mischievously, though keenly, at Mr. Morris's face, which, however,
preserved its expression of impassivity.

"Ah! place aux eveques!" murmured Mr. Morris, quietly.

S