The latter did not flinch. The company in question had just collapsed amid a frightful scandal. Over-inquisitive shareholders had wished to know what progress had been made with the establishment of the famous commercial stations on the shores of the Mediterranean, and a judicial inquiry had demonstrated that the ports of Morocco only existed on the plans of the engineers, very handsome plans, hung on the walls of the company's offices. Since then, Monsieur Toutin-Laroche cried out even louder than the shareholders, growing indignant and demanding that his name should be restored to him spotless. And he made so much noise, that the government, to calm and rehabilitate this useful man in the eye of public opinion, had decided to send him to the Senate. It was thus that he fished up the much-coveted seat, in an affair which had almost brought him to the police court. "You are really too good to occupy yourself about that," said Saccard. "You can show your great work, the Crédit Viticole, an establishment which has come victorious out of every crisis." "Yes," murmured De Mareuil, "that is an answer to everything." Indeed the Crédit Viticole had just emerged from great and skilfully concealed embarrassments. A minister who was very kindly disposed towards this financial institution which held the city of Paris by the throat, had brought about a rise on 'change, which Monsieur Toutin-Laroche had turned to advantage marvellously well. Nothing titillated him more than the praise bestowed on the prosperity of the Crédit Viticole. He usually provoked it. He thanked Monsieur de Mareuil with a glance, and leaning towards Baron Gouraud, on whose arm-chair he was familiarly leaning, he asked him: "You are all right? You are not too warm?" The baron gave a slight grunt. "He is breaking up, he breaks up more every day," added Monsieur Toutin-Laroche turning towards the other gentlemen. Monsieur Michelin smiled, and from time to time gently lowered his eyelids to look at his red ribbon. Mignon and Charrier, firmly planted on their large feet, seemed much more at ease in their dress-coats since they wore diamonds. However, it was nearly midnight, and the assemblage was growing impatient; it did not venture to murmur; but the fans fluttered more nervously, and the noise of conversation increased. At length, Monsieur Hupel de la Noue reappeared. He had just passed one shoulder through the narrow opening when he perceived Madame d'Espanet at length mounting on to the stage; the other ladies already in position for the first _tableau_ had only been waiting for her. The prefect turned round, showing the spectators his back, and he could be seen talking with the marchioness whom the curtains concealed. He lowered his voice, and making complimentary gestures with the tips of his fingers, said: "My congratulations, marchioness, your costume is delicious."