d I think that those who use it will probably preserve
their hair."

"Do you think that the royal Academy of Sciences would approve of--"

"Oh! there is no discovery in all that," said Vauquelin. "Besides,
charlatans have so abused the name of the Academy that it would not help
you much. My conscience will not allow me to think the oil of nuts a
prodigy."

"What would be the best way to extract it; by pressure, or decoction?"
asked Birotteau.

"Pressure between two hot slabs will cause the oil to flow more
abundantly; but if obtained by pressure between cold slabs it will be
of better quality. It should be applied to the skin itself," added
Vauquelin, kindly, "and not to the hair; otherwise the effect might be
lost."

"Recollect all that, Popinot," said Birotteau, with an enthusiasm that
sent a glow into his face. "You see before you, monsieur, a young man
who will count this day among the finest in his life. He knew you, he
venerated you, without ever having seen you. We often talk of you in our
home: a name that is in the heart is often on the lips. We pray for
you every day, my wife and daughter and I, as we ought to pray for our
benefactor."

"Too much for so little," said Vauquelin, rather bored by the voluble
gratitude of the perfumer.

"Ta, ta, ta!" exclaimed Birotteau, "you can't prevent our loving you,
you who will take nothing from us. You are like the sun; you give light,
and those whom you illuminate can give you nothing in return."

The man of science smiled and rose; the perfumer and Popinot rose also.

"Anselme, look well at this room. You permit it, monsieur? Your time is
precious, I know, but he will never have another opportunity."

"Well, have you got all you wanted?" said Vauquelin to Birotteau. "After
all, we are both commercial men."

"Pretty nearly, monsieur," said Birotteau, retreating towards the
dining-room, Vauquelin following. "But to launch our Comagene Essence we
need a good foundation--"

"'Comagene' and 'Essence' are two words that clash. Call your cosmetic
'Oil of Birotteau'; or, if you don't want to give your name to the
world, find some other. Why, there's the Dresden Madonna! Ah, Monsieur
Birotteau, do you mean that we shall quarrel?"

"Monsieur Vauquelin," said the perfumer, taking the chemist's hand.
"This treasure has no value except the time that I have spent in finding
it. We had to ransack all Germany to find it on China paper before
lettering. I knew that you w