But time had moved on, and that was a fact which Monsieur de Bois-Doré had not deigned to perceive. His supple frame had hardened and stiffened, his shapely legs had withered, the hair had receded from his noble brow, his great eye was surrounded with wrinkles as the sun is with rays, and of all his vanished youth he had retained naught save the teeth, somewhat long, but still white and even, with which he ostentatiously cracked nuts at dessert in order to draw attention to them. Indeed it was a common remark among his neighbors that he was much annoyed if they forgot to place some nuts on the table before him. When we say that Monsieur de Bois-Doré had not observed the inroads of time, it is simply another way of expressing his perfect satisfaction with himself; for it is certain that he saw that he was growing old, and that he fought against the effect of advancing years with valiant determination. I believe that the utmost energy of which he was capable was put forth in that struggle. When he saw that his hair was turning white and falling out, he made the journey to Paris for the sole purpose of ordering a wig from the best artist in wigs. Wigmaking was becoming an art; but the investigators of details have informed us that at least sixty pistoles were required to obtain one with a white silk parting, and the hairs inserted one by one. Monsieur de Bois-Doré was not deterred by that trifling sum, for he was a rich man, and could well afford to expend twelve to fifteen hundred francs of our money upon a semi-ceremonious costume, and five or six thousand upon a full dress-coat. He hastened to provide himself with a stock of wigs: first he fell in love with a flaxen mane, which was wonderfully becoming to him, according to the wigmaker. Bois-Doré, who had never before seen himself as a blond, was beginning to believe it, when he tried on one of a chestnut hue, which, still according to the dealer, was no less becoming than the other. The two were of the same price: but Bois-Doré tried on a third, which cost ten crowns more, and which caused the dealer's enthusiasm to overflow: that was really the only one, he said, which brought out Monsieur le marquis's fine points. Bois-Doré thought of the time when the ladies used to say that it was very unusual to see hair as black as his with so white a skin. "This wigmaker must be right," he thought. But, standing before the mirror a few moments, he was surprised to see that that dark mane gave him a harsh, savage air. "It is astonishing how it changes me," he said to himself. "However, this is my natural color. In my youth my appearance was as mild as it is now. My thick black hair never gave me this cutthroat look." It did not occur to him that all things harmonize in the operations of nature, whether it is putting us together or taking us apart, and that with the gray hair his appearance was as it should be.