"'Why, that is M. de Macreuse,' my mother replied, in tones indicative of the profoundest respect. "'And who is M. de Macreuse, my dear mother? I never saw him in your house before.' "'No, for he has just returned from his travels,' she answered. 'He is a very distinguished and highly exemplary young man,--the founder of the St. Polycarpe Mission.' "'The deuce! And what is the St. Polycarpe Mission, my dear mother?' "'It is a society that strives to make the poor resigned to their misery by teaching them that the more they suffer here, the happier they will be hereafter.' "'_Se non e vero, e ben trovato_,' I laughingly remarked. 'But it seems to me that this fellow has a very plump face to be advocating the good effects of starvation.' "'My son, I meant every word that I just said to you,' replied my mother, gravely. 'Many highly esteemed persons have connected themselves with M. de Macreuse's work,--a work to which he devotes himself with truly evangelical zeal. But here he comes. I would like to introduce you to him.' "'Pray do nothing of the kind, mother,' I retorted, quickly. 'I am sure to be impolite; I do not like the gentleman's looks; besides, what I already know of him makes my antipathy to his acquaintance insurmountable. We were at college together, and--' "But I was unable to say any more; Macreuse was now close to my mother, and I was standing beside her. 'My dear M. de Macreuse,' she said to her protege, in the most amiable manner, after casting a withering look at me, 'I wish to introduce my son, one of your former classmates, who will be charmed to renew his acquaintance with you.' "Macreuse bowed profoundly, then said, in a rather condescending way, 'I have been absent from Paris some time, monsieur, and was consequently ignorant of your return to France, so I did not expect to have the honour of meeting you at your mother's house this evening. We were at college together, and--' "'That is true,' I interrupted, 'and I recollect perfectly well how you played the spy on us to ingratiate yourself with the teachers; how you would stoop to any dirty trick to make a penny; and how you put out the eyes of little birds with pins. Possibly this last was in the charitable hope that their sufferings here would profit them hereafter.'" "A clever thrust that!" exclaimed the commander, with a hearty laugh. "And what did Macreuse say?" asked Olivier. "The scoundrel's big moon face turned scarlet. He tried to smile and stammer out a few words, but suddenly my mother, looking at me with a reproachful air, rose, and to rescue our friend from his embarrassment, I suppose, said, 'M. de Macreuse, may I ask you to take me to get a cup of tea?'" "But how did this man gain an entrance into such an exclusive circle as that of the Faubourg St Germain?" inquired Olivier.