I understood that the allusion was to M. de Gery, that young secretary of the Nabob who often comes to the Territorial, where he is always occupied rummaging into the books. Very polite, certainly, but a very haughty young man, who does not know how to push himself forward. From all round the table there came nothing but a concert of maledictions on him. M. Louis himself addressed some remarks to the company upon the subject with his grand air: “In our establishment, my dear M. Barreau, the cook quite recently had an affair, similar to yours, with the chief of his excellency’s Cabinet, who had permitted himself to make some comments upon the expenditure. The cook went up to the duke’s apartments upon the instant in his professional costume, and with his hand on the strings of his apron, said, ‘Let your excellency choose between monsieur and myself.’ The duke did not hesitate. One can find as many Cabinet leaders as one desires, while the good cooks, you can count them. There are in Paris four altogether. I include you, my dear Barreau. We dismissed the chief of our Cabinet, giving him a prefecture of the first class by way of consolation; but we kept the _chef_ of our kitchen.” “Ah, you see,” said M. Barreau, who rejoiced to hear this story, “you see what it is to serve in the house of a _grand seigneur_. But _parvenus_ are _parvenus_--what will you have?” “And that is all Jansoulet is,” added M. Francis, tugging at his cuffs. “A man who used to be a street porter at Marseilles.” M. Noel took offence at this. “Hey, down there, old Francis, you are very glad all the same to have him to pay your card-debts, the street porter of La Cannebriere. You may well be embarrassed by _parvenus_ like us who lend millions to kings, and whom _grand seigneurs_ like Mora do not blush to admit to their tables.” “Oh, in the country,” chuckled M. Francis, with a sneer that showed his old tooth. The other rose, quite red in the face. He was about to give way to his anger when M. Louis made a gesture with his hand to signify that he had something to say, and M. Noel sat down immediately, putting his hand to his ear like all the rest of us in order to lose nothing that fell from those august lips.