"I am rejoiced
to see madame looking so young and in such good spirits this
morning," he said, with a low bow and a mild, deferential smile.
"I think I have some reason for being in good spirits on the day
when my son's marriage-contract is to be signed," said Madame
Danville, with a gracious nod of the head. "Ha, Dubois, I shall
live yet to see him with a patent of nobility in his hand. The
mob has done its worst; the end of this infamous revolution is
not far off; our order will have its turn again soon, and then
who will have such a chance at court as my son? He is noble
already through his mother, he will then be noble also through
his wife. Yes, yes; let that coarse-mannered, passionate, old
soldier-father of hers be as unnaturally republican as he
pleases, he has inherited a name which will help my son to a
peerage! The Vicomte D'Anville (D with an apostrophe, Dubois, you
understand?), the Vicomte D'Anville--how prettily it sounds!"
"Charmingly, madame--charmingly. Ah! this second marriage of my
young master's begins under much better auspices than the first."
The remark was an unfortunate one. Madame Danville frowned
portentously, and rose in a great hurry from her chair.
"Are your wits failing you, you old fool?" she exclaimed,
indignantly. "What do you mean by referring to such a subject as
that, on this day, of all others? You are always harping on those
two wretched people who were guillotined, as if you thought I
could have saved their lives.
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