to dine at his own cost, he sent his tiger to fetch a couple of dishes
from a cookshop, never spending more than twenty-five sous.

Young Monsieur de Soulas was supposed to be a spendthrift, recklessly
extravagant, whereas the poor man made the two ends meet in the year
with a keenness and skill which would have done honor to a thrifty
housewife. At Besancon in those days no one knew how great a tax on a
man's capital were six francs spent in polish to spread on his boots
or shoes, yellow gloves at fifty sous a pair, cleaned in the deepest
secrecy to make them three times renewed, cravats costing ten francs,
and lasting three months, four waistcoats at twenty-five francs, and
trousers fitting close to the boots. How could he do otherwise, since
we see women in Paris bestowing their special attention on simpletons
who visit them, and cut out the most remarkable men by means of these
frivolous advantages, which a man can buy for fifteen louis, and get
his hair curled and a fine linen shirt into the bargain?

If this unhappy youth should seem to you to have become a _lion_ on
very cheap terms, you must know that Amedee de Soulas had been three
times to Switzerland, by coach and in short stages, twice to Paris,
and once from Paris to England. He passed as a well-informed traveler,
and could say, "In England, where I went . . ." The dowagers of the
town would say to him, "You, who have been in England . . ." He had
been as far as Lombardy, and seen the shores of the Italian lakes. He
read new books. Finally, when he was cleaning his gloves, the tiger
Babylas replied to callers, "Monsieur is very busy." An attempt had
been made to withdraw Monsieur Amedee de Soulas from circulation by
pronouncing him "A man of advanced ideas." Amedee had the gift of
uttering with the gravity of a native the commonplaces that were in
fashion, which gave him the credit of being one of the most