(after fishing in the troubled waters of political intrigue) has quite
recently been made a peer of France and a count. As yet our friend
does not venture to bear his honors; his wife merely puts 'La Comtesse
du Bruel' on her cards. The sometime playwright has the Order of
Leopold, the Order of Isabella, the cross of Saint-Vladimir, second
class, the Order of Civil Merit of Bavaria, the Papal Order of the
Golden Spur,--all the lesser orders, in short, besides the Grand
Cross.

"Three months ago Claudine drove to La Palferine's door in her
splendid carriage with its armorial bearings. Du Bruel's grandfather
was a farmer of taxes ennobled towards the end of Louis Quatorze's
reign. Cherin composed his coat-of-arms for him, so the Count's
coronet looks not amiss above a scutcheon innocent of Imperial
absurdities. In this way, in the short space of three years, Claudine
had carried out the programme laid down for her by the charming,
light-hearted La Palferine.

"One day, just above a month ago, she climbed the miserable staircase
to her lover's lodging; climbed in her glory, dressed like a real
countess of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, to our friend's garret. La
Palferine, seeing her, said, 'You have made a peeress of yourself I
know. But it is too late, Claudine; every one is talking just now
about the Southern Cross, I should like it see it!'

"'I will get it for you.'

"La Palferine burst into a peal of Homeric laughter.

"'Most distinctly,' he returned, 'I do _not_ wish to have a woman as