"You are perfectly right, madame," said Mme. Aubry. "There is only one thing in the world worth having, and that is money. When I had money I utterly despised every one who had not, and now I think it quite natural for people to despise me, and I don’t complain if they do." "No one despises you on that account, madame," replied Mme. de Saint-Cast, "most certainly not; but all the same there’s a very great difference between poverty and riches, I must confess, as the general knows well enough. Why, he had absolutely nothing when I married him—except his sword—and one doesn’t get fat on a sword, does one, madame?" "No, no, indeed, madame!" exclaimed Mme. Aubry, delighted with this bold metaphor. "Honour and glory are all very well in novels, but a nice carriage is much better in practice, isn’t it, madame?" "Of course it is, madame; and that’s just what I was saying to the general this morning as we came here. Isn’t it, general?" "Eh, what?" growled the general, who was playing cards in a corner with the old corsair. "You hadn’t a penny when I married you, general, had you?" continued Mme. de Saint-Cast. "You won’t think of denying that, I suppose." "We’ve heard it often enough, I should say," growled the general. "That doesn’t alter the fact that if it hadn’t been for me, general, you’d have had to travel on foot, and that wouldn’t have been a fine thing for you with your wounds. Your half-pay of six or seven hundred francs wouldn’t have kept a carriage for you, my friend. I was saying this to him to-day _apropos_ of our new carriage, which is as easy as an arm-chair. Of course I paid a good price for it; it’s four thousand francs out of my pocket, madame." "I can well believe it, madame. My best carriage cost me fully five thousand, including the tiger-skin mat, which was worth five hundred francs alone." "Yes," replied Mme. de Saint-Cast; "but I have had to be a little careful, for I’ve just been getting new drawing-room furniture; the carpet and curtains alone cost me fifteen thousand francs. You’ll say it’s too good for a country hole like this. You’re right. But the whole town is lost in admiration, and, after all, one does like to be respected, madame!" "Of course, madame," replied Mme. Aubry, "we like to be respected, and we are respected according to the money we have. For my part, I console myself for not being respected now, by remembering that if I were as well off as I once was, I should see all the people who despise me at my feet again." "Except me, by God!" cried Dr. Desmarets, jumping up. "You might have a hundred millions a year, and I give you my word of honour you wouldn’t see me at your feet! And now I’ll go and get some air, for, devil take me, if one can breathe here!" So saying, the honest doctor left the room, and my heart went out to him for the outburst that had relieved my own sense of disgust and indignation.