“I see, Master Burke, there is a bit of impertinence in all this. You sneer at my warnings about _la belle cousine_; now, I am determined you shall see her at least. Besides, you must do me a service with the countess I have had the bad luck to be for some time out of favor with my aunt Josephine,--some trumpery debts of mine they make a work about at the Tuileries. Well, perhaps you could persuade Madame de Lacostellerie to take up my cause; she has great influence with the Empress, and can make her do what she pleases. And, if I must confess it, it was this brought me over to your quarters tonight; and I ate your supper just to pass away time till you came back again. You 'll not refuse me?” “Certainly not. But reflect for a moment, Tascher, and you will see that no man was ever less intended for a diplomate. It is only a few minutes since you laughed at my solitary habits and hermit propensities.” “I've thought of all that, Burke, and am not a whit discouraged. On the contrary, you are the more likely to think of my affairs because you have none of your own; and I don't know any one but yourself I should fancy to meet Pauline frequently and on terms of intimacy.” “This, at least, is not a compliment,” said I, laughing. He shrugged his shoulders, and threw up his eyebrows with a French expression, as though to say, it can't be helped; and then continued:-- “And now remember, Burke, I count on you. Get me out of this confounded place; I 'd rather be back at Toulon again, if need be. And as I shall not see you again before you leave, farewell. I 'll send the letter for the countess early to-morrow.” We shook hands warmly and parted: he to return to his quarters; and I to sit down beside my fire, and muse over the events that had just occurred, and think of Tascher himself, whose character had never been so plainly exposed to me before. If De Beauvais, with his hot-headed impetuosity, his mad devotion to the cause of the Legitimists, was a type of the followers of the Bourbons; so, in all the easy indifference and quiet selfishness of his nature, was Tascher a specimen of another class of his countrymen,--a class which, wrapped up in its own circle of egotistical enjoyments, believed Paris the only habitable spot of the whole globe. Without any striking traits of character, or any very decided vices, they led a life of pleasure and amusement, rendering every one and everything around them, so far as they were able, subservient to their own plane and wishes; and perfectly unconscious the while how glaring their selfishness had become, and how palpable, even to the least observant, was the self-indulgence they practised on every occasion. Without cleverness or tact enough to conceal their failings, they believed they imposed on others because they imposed on themselves,--just as the child deems himself unseen when he closes his eyes.