'at Eropolis,' anonymously, and utterly outrageous. They
say that he has bought up and suppressed the whole, but there are still
some copies in circulation with signature and dedication. Poor Dalzon
contradicts the story and makes a desperate fight. The Academie reserves
judgment pending the inquiry. That is why my respected master said to me
gravely one evening without giving reasons, 'I shall not vote again
for M. Dalzon.' The Academie is a club, that is the important thing to
remember. You cannot go in without proper dress and clean hands. For all
that I have too much gallantry and too much respect for my opponent to
make use of such concealed weapons; and Fage, the bookbinder in the
Cour des Comptes, the strange little humpback whom I sometimes meet
in Vedrine's studio--Fage, I say, who has much acquaintance with the
curiosities of bibliography, got a good snub when he offered me one of
the signed copies of 'Without the Veil.' 'Then it will go to M. Moser,'
was his calm reply.

Talking of Vedrine, I am in an awkward position. In the warmth of our
first few meetings I made him promise to bring his family to stay with
us in the country. But how can we have him along with people like Astier
and Lavaux, who detest him? He is so uncivilised, such an oddity! Just
imagine! He is by descent Marquis de Vedrine, but even at school he
suppressed the title and the 'de,' additions coveted by most people in
this democratic age, when everything else may be got. And what is his
reason? Because, do you see, he wants to be liked for his own sake! The
latest of him is that the Princess de Rosen will not take the knight,
which he has done for the Prince's tomb. It was mentioned every minute
in the family, where money is not plenty. 'When we have sold the knight,
I am to have a clockwork horse,' said the boy. The poor mother too
counted upon the knight for refurnishing her empty presses, and to
Vedrine himself the price of the master-piece meant just three months'
holiday in a Nile-boat. Well! the knight not sold, or to be paid for
heaven knows when, after a lawsuit and a valuation, if you fancy they
are thrown out by that, you are much mistaken. When I got to the Cour
des Comptes the day after the disappointment, I found friend Vedrine
planted before an easel, absorbed in pleasure, sketching upon a large
canvas the curious wild vegetation on the burnt building. Behind him
were his wife and son in ecstasy, and Madame Vedrine, with the li