To this acute observation the lady replied by a gesture. Fraisier took the sign for a permission to continue. “I was an attorney, madame, at Mantes. My connection was all the fortune that I was likely to have. I took over M. Levroux’s practice. You knew him, no doubt?” The Presidente inclined her head. “With borrowed capital and some ten thousand francs of my own, I went to Mantes. I had been with Desroches, one of the cleverest attorneys in Paris, I had been his head-clerk for six years. I was so unlucky as to make an enemy of the attorney for the crown at Mantes, Monsieur--” “Olivier Vinet.” “Son of the Attorney-General, yes, madame. He was paying his court to a little person--” “Whom?” “Mme. Vatinelle.” “Oh! Mme. Vatinelle. She was very pretty and very--er--when I was there--” “She was not unkind to me: _inde iroe_,” Fraisier continued. “I was industrious; I wanted to repay my friends and to marry; I wanted work; I went in search of it; and before long I had more on my hands than anybody else. Bah! I had every soul in Mantes against me--attorneys, notaries, and even the bailiffs. They tried to fasten a quarrel on me. In our ruthless profession, as you know, madame, if you wish to ruin a man, it is soon done. I was concerned for both parties in a case, and they found it out. It was a trifle irregular; but it is sometimes done in Paris, attorneys in certain cases hand the rhubarb and take the senna. They do things differently at Mantes. I had done M. Bouyonnet this little service before; but, egged on by his colleagues and the attorney for the crown, he betrayed me.--I am keeping back nothing, you see.--There was a great hue and cry about it. I was a scoundrel; they made me out blacker than Marat; forced me to sell out; ruined me. And I am in Paris now. I have tried to get together a practice; but my health is so bad, that I have only two quiet hours out of the twenty-four. “At this moment I have but one ambition, and a very small one. Some day,” he continued, “you will be the wife of the Keeper of the Seals, or of the Home Secretary, it may be; but I, poor and sickly as I am, desire nothing but a post in which I can live in peace for the rest of my life, a place without any opening in which to vegetate. I should like to be a justice of the peace in Paris. It would be a mere trifle for you and M. le President to gain the appointment for me; for the present Keeper of the Seals must be anxious to keep on good terms with you...