On the Bourse Crevel was regarded as a man superior to his time, and especially as a man of pleasure, a _bon vivant_. In this particular Crevel flattered himself that he had overtopped his worthy friend Birotteau by a hundred cubits. “And is it you?” cried Crevel, flying into a rage as he saw Lisbeth enter the room, “who have plotted this marriage between Mademoiselle Hulot and your young Count, whom you have been bringing up by hand for her?” “You don’t seem best pleased at it?” said Lisbeth, fixing a piercing eye on Crevel. “What interest can you have in hindering my cousin’s marriage? For it was you, I am told, who hindered her marrying Monsieur Lebas’ son.” “You are a good soul and to be trusted,” said Crevel. “Well, then, do you suppose that I will ever forgive Monsieur Hulot for the crime of having robbed me of Josepha--especially when he turned a decent girl, whom I should have married in my old age, into a good-for-nothing slut, a mountebank, an opera singer!--No, no. Never!” “He is a very good fellow, too, is Monsieur Hulot,” said Cousin Betty. “Amiable, very amiable--too amiable,” replied Crevel. “I wish him no harm; but I do wish to have my revenge, and I will have it. It is my one idea.” “And is that desire the reason why you no longer visit Madame Hulot?” “Possibly.” “Ah, ha! then you were courting my fair cousin?” said Lisbeth, with a smile. “I thought as much.” “And she treated me like a dog!--worse, like a footman; nay, I might say like a political prisoner.--But I will succeed yet,” said he, striking his brow with his clenched fist. “Poor man! It would be dreadful to catch his wife deceiving him after being packed off by his mistress.” “Josepha?” cried Crevel. “Has Josepha thrown him over, packed him off, turned him out neck and crop? Bravo, Josepha, you have avenged me! I will send you a pair of pearls to hang in your ears, my ex-sweetheart!--I knew nothing of it; for after I had seen you, on the day after that when the fair Adeline had shown me the door, I went back to visit the Lebas, at Corbeil, and have but just come back. Heloise played the very devil to get me into the country, and I have found out the purpose of her game; she wanted me out of the way while she gave a house-warming in the Rue Chauchat, with some artists, and players, and writers.--She took me in! But I can forgive her, for Heloise amuses me. She is a Dejazet under a bushel. What a character the hussy is! There is the note I found last evening: “‘DEAR OLD CHAP,--I have pitched my tent in the Rue Chauchat. I have taken the precaution of getting a few friends to clean up the paint. All is well. Come when you please, monsieur; Hagar awaits her Abraham.’ “Heloise will have some news for me, for she has her bohemia at her fingers’ end.” “But Monsieur Hulot took the disaster very calmly,” said Lisbeth. “Impossible!” cried Crevel, stopping in a parade as regular as the swing of a pendulum.