alutations and the presentation of Mr. Morris and Mr. Calvert having
been made, the Bishop of Autun turned to the Duchess.

"Your Highness," he said, "I have come to beg a dinner."

"And we have brought our bread with us, that we may be sure of our
welcome!" cried out Madame de Flahaut, with a little laugh. And indeed
they had, for wheat was so scarce in Paris that it was the fashion for
ladies and gentlemen to send their servants with bread when dining out.

"Monsieur l'eveque knows he is always welcome," said the Duchess,
gently, and smiling at Madame de Flahaut. "Once our guest, always our
guest."

In a little while the tutor of the young princes came in and took away
his charges, and the company sat down to supper. It was one of Her
Highness's little soupers intimes, which she gave each Thursday, and
upon which Monsieur le Duc d'Orleans and his wild companions never
intruded. Though the company was small it was very gay, and it would
have been hard to say who contributed most to the wit and sparkle of the
talk which went on ceaselessly--Mr. Morris, Monsieur le Vicomte de
Segur, or Monsieur de Boufflers, who, as usual, was present in the train
of the beautiful Madame de Sabran. As for Mr. Morris, he was in the
highest spirits and devoted himself with gallant courtesy to Madame la
Duchesse d'Orleans, on whose left he sat, much to the evident pique of
Madame de Flahaut. With that wonderful adaptability which made him at
ease in any society in which he found himself, he adjusted himself to
the company of the evening, and, being perfectly master of the French
language, could not only understand the light talk and persiflage, but
even led in the conversation.

As for Mr. Calvert, having none of that adaptability possessed in so
large a share by Mr. Morris, he felt himself out of his element,
uninterested and therefore uninteresting, and he listened with inward
irritation to the loose anecdotes, the piquant allusions, the coarse
gossip, so freely bandied about. It was with something akin to a feeling
of relief that he heard his name spoken and turned to find the keen,
restless eyes of Monsieur de Talleyrand, beside whom he was seated,
fixed upon him.

"Monsieur is not interested in the conversation?" he asked, and, though
there was a mocking smile on the thin lips, there was also a kindly look
in the brilliant eyes.

Calvert blushed hotly at being so easily found out by this worldly
looking prelate. Monsieur de Tal