“Monsieur Savary will ask you no further questions, trust me. And now, if you have got over all your fears and disquietudes, may I take the liberty to remind you that the château is ten leagues off; that I dined at three, and have eaten nothing since. Abbés you are aware, are privileged gastronomists, and the family of D'Ervan have a most unhappy addiction to good things. A poulet, however, and a flask of Chablis, will do for the present; for I long to talk with you.” While I made my humble preparations to entertain him, he rambled on in his usual free and pleasant manner,--that mixture of smartness and carelessness which seemed equally diffused through all he said, imparting a sufficiency to awake, without containing anything to engage too deeply, the listener's attention. “Come, come, Lieutenant, make no apology for the fare: the paté is excellent; and as for the Burgundy, it is easy enough to see your Chambertin comes from the Consul's cellar. And so you tell me that you find this place dull, which I own I'm surprised at. These little soirées are usually amusing; but perhaps at your age the dazzling gayety of the ballroom is more attractive.” “In truth, Abbé, the distinction would be a matter of some difficulty to me, I know so little of either. And indeed, Madame la Consulesse is not over likely to enlighten my ignorance; I have never been asked to the Palace.” “You are jesting, surely?” “Perfectly in earnest, I assure you. This is my third week of being quartered here; and not only have I not been invited, but, stranger still, Madame Bonaparte passed and never noticed me; and another, one of her suite, did the same: so you see there can be no accident in the matter.” “How strange!” said the abbé, leaning his head on his hand. And then, as if speaking to himself, muttered, “But so it is; there is no such tyrant as your _parvenu_. The caprice of sudden elevation knows no guidance. And you can't even guess at the cause of all this?” “Not with all my ingenuity could I invent anything like a reason.” “Well, well; we may find it out yet. These are strange times altogether. Lieutenant. Men's minds are more unsettled than ever they were. The Jacobin begins to feel he has been laboring for nothing; that all he deems the rubbish of a monarchy has been removed, only to build up a greater oppression. The soldier sees his conquests have only made the fortune of one man in the army, and that one not overmindful of his old companions. Many begin to think--and they may have some cause for the notion--that the old family of France knew the interests of the nation best, after all; and certain it is, they were never ungrateful to those who served them. Your countrymen had always their share of favor shown them; you do surprise me when you say you've never been invited.” “So it is, though; and, worse still, there is evidently some secret reason. Men look at me as if I had done something to stain my character and name.”