M. le Chevalier de Broval, as everyone knows, had been one of the faithful followers of M. le Duc d'Orléans. He had never left him during the last portion of his exile, serving him sometimes as secretary, at other times as diplomatist; in this latter capacity he had been mixed up in all the lengthy discussions over the marriage of the Duc d'Orléans with Princess Marie-Amélie, daughter of Ferdinand and Caroline, King and Queen of Naples; and in connection with this marriage he had gained the Order of Saint-Janvier, which he wore on a braided coat on high festivals, next to the cross of the Legion of Honour. He was a little old man of about sixty years of age, with short stubbly hair; he was slightly lame, walked crookedly on his left side, had a big red nose, which told its own tale, and small grey eyes, that expressed nothing; he looked a typical courtier, polite, obsequious, fawning to his master, kind by fits and starts, but generally capricious with his subordinates; he thought a great deal of trifles, attaching supreme importance to the manner in which a letter was folded or a seal was fastened; he really imbibed these notions from the Duc d'Orléans himself, who was even more particular over little details than perhaps was M. de Broval. M. de Broval read the letter, took my pen, added an apostrophe or a comma here and there; then, replacing it in front of me: "Finish it," he said. I finished it. He waited behind me, literally pressing on my shoulders. Every fresh face I saw in turn had its effect on me. I finished with a very shaky hand. "There it is, M. le chevalier," I said. "Good!" he exclaimed. He took a pen, signed, threw sand over my writing and over his; then, giving me back the epistle, which was for a simple inspector,--as, at first, they did not risk confiding more than that to my inexperienced hand,--he said-- "Do you know how to fold a letter?" I looked at him with astonishment. "I ask you if you know how to fold a letter. Answer me!" "Yes, yes ... at least, I believe so," I replied, astonished at the fixed stare his little grey eyes had assumed. "You believe? Is that all? You are not sure?" "Monsieur, I am not yet sure about anything, as you see, not even about the folding of a letter." "And there you are right, for there are ten ways of folding a letter, according to the rank of the person to whom it is addressed. Fold this one." I began to fold the letter in four. "Oh! what are you about?" he said. I stopped short. "Pardon, monsieur," I said, "but you _ordered_ me to fold the letter, and I am folding it." M. de Broval bit his lip. I had laid emphasis on the word "ordered" in the spoken phrase as I have just underlined it in the written phrase. "Yes," he said; "but you are folding it square--that is all right for high functionaries. If you give square-folded letters to inspectors and sub-inspectors, what will you do for ministers, princes and kings?"