The father certainly was in no fitting costume for the dignity of his new character. He was dressed according to the fashion of the respectable London trader of his time--a very fitting figure for 'Change, but not appropriate to the Marquis de Bouillon de Chateau d'Or. Nor, in fact, was his disposition much more fitted for his exalted position than his clothes. To all intents and purposes, he was a true John Bull: proud of his efforts to attain wealth--proud of his success--proud of the freedom of his adopted land--and, in his secret heart, thinking an English merchant several hundred degrees superior in usefulness and worth to all the marquises that ever lived on the smiles of the Grand Monarque. The struggle, therefore, that went on within him was the most ludicrous possible. To his family and friends he presented that phase of his individuality that set his nobility in front; to the French nobles, on the other hand, he was inclined to show only so much of himself as presented the man of bills and invoices; and in both conditions, by a wonderful process of reasoning, in which we are all adepts, considered himself raised above the individuals he addressed. "Did they see you at the window?" he said, in some trepidation, while the visitors were descending from their coaches. "To be sure," replied Louise; "and impudent-looking men they were." "Ah! that's a pity. Do, for heaven's sake, my dear, just slip in beside your aunt. They are a very gay polite people, the nobles of France--" "Well; and what then?" "And they might take ways of showing it, we are not used to in England. Do hide yourself, my dear--there, that's a good girl." And just as he had succeeded in pushing her into the bedroom, and begged her to lock herself in, the landlord of the hotel ushered four or five noblemen into the apartment, as visitors to the Marquis de Bouillon. The eldest of the strangers--about forty years old--bespangled with jewels, and ornamented with two or three stars and ribbons, looked with some surprise on the plainly drest and citizen-mannered man, who came forward to welcome them. "We came to pay our compliments to my lord the Marquis de Bouillon de Chateau d'Or." "And very glad he is to see you, gentlemen," said their host. "You?--impossible! He speaks with an English accent." "An impostor!" replied another of the nobles, to whom the last sentence had been addressed in a whisper." "I am, indeed,--and truly glad to make your acquaintance, I assure you." "Well," resumed the Frenchman, "let me present to you the Viscount de Lanoy--the Baron Beauvilliers--the Marquis de Croissy--for myself, I'm Duc de Vieuxchateau." "Sit down, gentlemen--I beg," said De Bouillon, after bowing to the personages named. "A charming place this Tours, and I'm very glad to see you--fine weather, gentlemen." "I trust you have come with the intention of residing among us. Your estates, I conclude, are restored along with your titles."