on all sides by tickets of every kind, blue,
yellow, and green, for the platform, for the outer circle, for the
orchestra, Entrance A, Entrance B, &c. They were in the middle of
sending out the invitations for the great annual meeting, which is to be
honoured this year by the presence of a Royal Highness on his travels,
the Grand Duke Leopold. 'Very sorry, my lord'--Picheral always says 'my
lord,' having learnt it, no doubt, from Chateaubriand--' but I must ask
you to wait.' 'Certainly, M. Picheral, certainly.'

Picheral is an amusing old gentleman, very courtly. He reminds me
of Bonicar and our lessons in deportment in the covered gallery at
grandmamma's house at Jallanges. He is as touchy, too, when crossed, as
the old dancing master used to be. I wish you had heard him talk to the
Comte de Bretigny, the ex-minister, one of the grandees of the Academie,
who came in, while I was waiting, to rectify a mistake about the number
of his tallies. I must tell you that the tally attesting attendance is
worth five shillings, the old crown-piece. There are forty Academicians,
which makes two hundred shillings per meeting, to be divided among those
present; so, you see, the fewer they are, the more money each gets.
Payment is made once a month in crown-pieces, kept in stout paper bags,
each with its little reckoning pinned on to it, like a washing bill.
Bretigny had not his complete number of tallies; and it was the most
amusing sight to see this man of enormous wealth, director of Heaven
knows how many companies, come there in his carriage to claim his ten
shillings. He only got five, which sum, after a long dispute, Picheral
tossed to him with as little respect as to a porter. But the 'deity'
pocketed them with inexpressible joy; there is nothing like money won by
the sweat of your brow. For, my dear Germaine, you must not imagine
that there is any idling in the Academie. Every year there are fresh
bequests, new prizes instituted; that means more books to read, more
reports to engross, to say nothing of the dictionary and the orations.
'Leave your book at their houses, but do not go in,' said Picheral, when
he heard I was competing for the prize. 'The extra work, which people
are always putting on the members, makes them anything but gracious to a
candidate.'

I certainly have not forgotten the way Ripault-Babin and Laniboire
received me, when I called on them about my last candidature. Of course,
when the candidate is a pret