adquarters; a dinner for twenty people was to be served
at six o'clock, a superb supper at one in the morning. Birotteau
arranged with the cafe Foy for ices in the shape of fruits, to be served
in pretty saucers, with gilt spoons, on silver trays. Tanrade, another
illustrious purveyor, furnished the refreshments.

"Don't be worried," said Cesar to his wife, observing her uneasiness on
the day before the great event, "Chevet, Tanrade, and the cafe Foy will
occupy the _entresol_, Virginie will take charge of the second floor,
the shop will be closed; all we shall have to do is to enshrine
ourselves on the first floor."

At two o'clock, on the 16th, the mayor, Monsieur de la Billardiere, came
to take Cesar to the Chancellerie of the Legion of honor, where he
was to be received by Monsieur le Comte de Lacepede, and about a dozen
chevaliers of the order. Tears were in his eyes when he met the mayor;
Constance had just given him the "surprise" of the gold buckles and
diamond pin.

"It is very sweet to be so loved," he said, getting into the coach in
presence of the assembled clerks, and Cesarine, and Constance. They,
one and all, gazed at Cesar, attired in black silk knee-breeches, silk
stockings, and the new bottle-blue coat, on which was about to gleam the
ribbon that, according to Molineux, was dyed in blood. When Cesar came
home to dinner, he was pale with joy; he looked at his cross in all the
mirrors, for in the first moments of exultation he was not satisfied
with the ribbon,--he wore the cross, and was glorious without false
shame.

"My wife," he said, "Monsieur the high chancellor is a charming man. On
a hint from La Billardiere he accepted my invitation. He is coming with
Monsieur Vauquelin. Monsieur de Lacepede is a great man,--yes, as great
as Monsieur Vauquelin; he has continued the work of Buffon in forty
volumes; he is an author, peer of France! Don't forget to address him
as, Your Excellence, or, Monsieur le comte."

"Do eat something," said his wife. "Your father is worse than a child,"
added Constance to Cesarine.

"How well it looks in your button-hole," said Cesarine. "When we walk
out together, won't they present arms?"

"Yes, wherever there are sentries they will present arms."

Just at this moment Grindot was coming downstairs with Braschon. It had
been arranged that after dinner, monsieur, madame, and mademoiselle were
to enjoy a first sight of the new appartement; Braschon's foreman was
now