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Without waiting for a question,"The baron has not yet come home -," he said. "But he cannot bemuch longer away; and certainly the baroness is at home for mylord-marquis. Please, then, give yourself the trouble to pass."And, standing aside, he struck upon the enormous gong that stoodnear his lodge a single sharp blow, intended to wake up thefootman on duty in the vestibule, and to announce a visitor ofnote. Slowly, but not without quietly observing every thing, M.

de Traggers crossed the courtyard, covered with fine sand, - theywould have powdered it with golden dust, if they had dared, - andsurrounded on all sides with bronze baskets, in which beautifulrhododendrons were blossoming.

It was nearly six o'clock. The manager of the Mutual Credit dinedat seven; and the preparations for this important event wereeverywhere apparent. Through the large windows of the dining-roomthe steward could be seen presiding over the setting of the table.

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The butler was coming up from the cellar, loaded with bottles.

Finally, through the apertures of the basement arose the appetizingperfumes of the kitchen.

What enormous business it required to support such a style, todisplay this luxury, which would shame one of those Germanprincelings, who exchanged the crown of their ancestors for aPrussian livery gilded with French gold! - other people's money.

Meantime, the blow struck by the porter on the gong had producedthe desired effect; and the gates of the vestibule seemed to openof their own accord before M. de Tregars as he ascended the stoop.

This vestibule with the splendor of which Mlle. Lucienne had beenso deeply impressed, would, indeed, have been worthy the attentionof an artist, had it been allowed to retain the simple grandeurand the severe harmony which M. Parcimieux's architect had impartedto it.

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But M. de Thaller, as he was proud of boasting, had a perfect horrorof simplicity; and, wherever he discovered a vacant space as big ashis hand, he hung a picture, a bronze, or a piece of china, anything and anyhow.

The two footmen were standing when M. de Tregars came in. Withoutasking any question, "Will M. le Marquis please follow me?" saidthe youngest.

And, opening the broad glass doors1 he began walking in front ofM. de Traggers, along a staircase with marble railing, the elegantproportions of which were absolutely ruined by a ridiculousprofusion of "objects of art" of all nature, and from all sources.

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This staircase led to a vast semicircular landing, upon which,between columns of precious marble, opened three wide doors. Thefootman opened the middle one, which led to M. de Thaller'spicture-gallery, a celebrated one in the financial world, andwhich had acquired for him the reputation of an enlightened amateur.

But M. de Traggers had no time to examine this gallery, which,moreover, he already knew well enough. The footman showed himinto the small drawing-room of the baroness, a bijou of a room,furnished in gilt and crimson satin.

"Will M. le Marquis be kind enough to take a seat?" he said. "Irun to notify Mme. le Baronne of M. le Marquis's visit."The footman uttered these titles of nobility with a singular pomp,and as if some of their lustre was reflected upon himself.

Nevertheless, it was evident that "Marquis" jingled to his ear muchmore pleasantly than "Baronne."Remaining alone, M. de Tregars threw himself upon a seat. Worn outby the emotions of the day, and by an extraordinary contention ofmind, he felt thankful for this moment of respite, which permittedhim, at the moment of a decisive step, to collect all his energyand all his presence of mind.

And after two minutes he was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts,that he started, like a man suddenly aroused from his sleep, atthe sound of an opening door. At the same moment he heard a slightexclamation of surprise, "Ah!

Instead of the Baroness de Thaller, it was her daughter, Mlle.

Cesarine, who had come in.