As for the elderly beau of the Empire, he seemed since his marriage to have followed the example of the species of melon that turns from green to yellow in a night. All the youth that Sixte had lost seemed to appear in his wife’s radiant countenance; provincial pleasantries passed from ear to ear, circulating the more readily because the women were furious at the new superiority of the sometime queen of Angoulême; and the persistent intruder paid the penalty of his wife’s offence. The rooms were almost as full as on that memorable evening of Lucien’s readings from Chénier. Some faces were missing: M. de Chandour and Amélie, M. de Pimental and the Rastignacs--and M. de Bargeton was no longer there; but the Bishop came, as before, with his vicars-general in his train. Petit-Claud was much impressed by the sight of the great world of Angoulême. Four months ago he had no hope of entering the circle, to-day he felt his detestation of “the classes” sensibly diminished. He thought the Comtesse du Châtelet a most fascinating woman. “It is she who can procure me the appointment of deputy public prosecutor,” he said to himself. Louise chatted for an equal length of time with each of the women; her tone varied with the importance of the person addressed and the position taken up by the latter with regard to her journey to Paris with Lucien. The evening was half over when she withdrew to the boudoir with the Bishop. Zéphirine came over to Petit-Claud, and laid her hand on his arm. His heart beat fast as his hostess brought him to the room where Lucien’s troubles first began, and were now about to come to a crisis. “This is M. Petit-Claud, dear; I recommend him to you the more warmly because anything that you may do for him will doubtless benefit my ward.” “You are an attorney, are you not, monsieur?” said the august Nègrepelisse, scanning Petit-Claud. “Alas! yes, _Madame la Comtesse_.” (The son of the tailor in L’Houmeau had never once had occasion to use those three words in his life before, and his mouth was full of them.) “But it rests with you, Madame la Comtesse, whether or no I shall act for the Crown. M. Milaud is going to Nevers, it is said----” “But a man is usually second deputy and then first deputy, is he not?” broke in the Countess. “I should like to see you in the first deputy’s place at once. But I should like first to have some assurance of your devotion to the cause of our legitimate sovereigns, to religion, and more especially to M. de Villèle, if I am to interest myself on your behalf to obtain the favor.” Petit-Claud came nearer. “Madame,” he said in her ear, “I am the man to yield the King absolute obedience.” “That is just what _we_ want to-day,” said the Countess, drawing back a little to make him understand that she had no wish for promises given under his breath. “So long as you satisfy Mme. de Senonches, you can count upon me,” she added, with a royal movement of her fan.