During his first visit, M. Daburon was extremely
amused at hearing his name altered every time she addressed him.
Successively she made it Taburon, Dabiron, Maliron, Laliron, Laridon;
but, in three months time, she called him Daburon as distinctly as if he
had been a duke of something, and a lord of somewhere.
Occasionally she exerted herself to prove to the worthy magistrate that
he was a nobleman, or at least ought to be. She would have been happy,
if she could have persuaded him to adopt some title, and have a helmet
engraved upon his visiting cards.
"How is it possible," said she, "that your ancestors, eminent, wealthy,
and influential, never thought of being raised from the common herd
and securing a title for their descendants? Today you would possess a
presentable pedigree.--"
"My ancestors were wise," responded M. Daburon. "They preferred being
foremost among their fellow-citizens to becoming last among the nobles."
Upon which the marchioness explained, and proved to demonstration, that
between the most influential and wealthy citizen and the smallest scion
of nobility, there was an abyss that all the money in the world could
not fill up.
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