venerable style of hairdressing, Emilie's father, not without some
secret misgivings, told his old servant to go and desire the haughty
damsel to appear in the presence of the head of the family.

"Joseph," he added, when his hair was dressed, "take away that towel,
draw back the curtains, put those chairs square, shake the rug, and
lay it quite straight. Dust everything.--Now, air the room a little by
opening the window."

The Count multiplied his orders, putting Joseph out of breath, and the
old servant, understanding his master's intentions, aired and tidied
the room, of course the least cared for of any in the house, and
succeeded in giving a look of harmony to the files of bills, the
letter-boxes, the books and furniture of this sanctum, where the
interests of the royal demesnes were debated over. When Joseph had
reduced this chaos to some sort of order, and brought to the front
such things as might be most pleasing to the eye, as if it were a shop
front, or such as by their color might give the effect of a kind of
official poetry, he stood for a minute in the midst of the labyrinth
of papers piled in some places even on the floor, admired his
handiwork, jerked his head, and went.

The anxious sinecure-holder did not share his retainer's favorable
opinion. Before seating himself in his deep chair, whose rounded back
screened him from draughts, he looked round him doubtfully, examined
his dressing-gown with a hostile expression, shook off a few grains of
snuff, carefully wiped his nose, arranged the tongs and shovel, made
the fire, pulled up the heels of his slippers, pulled out his little
queue of hair which had lodged horizontally between the collar of his
waistcoat and that of his dressing-gown restoring it to its