“The Duchess has just won prodigiously at quinze from the Abbe Delille, who hates damnably to lose,” whispered Segur to Calvert, “and, having won, she stopped the game in the best of humors.”

“Alas, Madame!” said Mr. Morris, in answer to the Duchess, “I have not had the pleasure of seeing Madame de Flahaut, but am just from the Club de Valois.  As you can imagine to yourself, I heard nothing but politics at the Club.”

“Unfortunately, one does not have to go to the club to hear politics,” replied Madame d’Azay, dryly.  “It has required all my authority to restrain these gentlemen this evening from discussing such subjects.  Indeed, I think Monsieur Jefferson and Monsieur de Lafayette, in spite of my defense, which I now remove, have had a political debate,” and she snapped her bright eyes and nodded her withered old head severely at the two gentlemen.

“Peccavi!” said the Marquis, bowing low.  “I am the culprit, but surely, Madame, you would not have me fail to listen to Mr. Jefferson’s counsels when I am so fortunate as to be offered them!  He advises me,” continued Monsieur de Lafayette, turning to Mr. Morris, “to burn my instructions from the noblesse, which engage me absolutely to favor the vote by orders and not by persons, and, should this produce an irrevocable rupture with my electors, boldly to take my stand with the tiers etat.  I have seen Necker to-day and he is as far as ever from a solution of this great and first question which must come up before the States-General.  Indeed, there is but one rational solution, and I must disregard my instructions in an endeavor to bring it about.”

“I would advise you to resign your seat!” said Mr. Morris, bluntly.  “You have been elected by an order in whose principles you no longer believe.  Should you continue their representative your conscience will be continually at war with your duty.  Should you break away from your constituency you will offer an example of insubordination and lawlessness which may have the most deplorable results.”

“I cannot agree with you, Mr. Morris,” broke in Mr. Jefferson, warmly.  “In the desperate pass to which affairs are already come in this nation, desperate remedies must be employed.  Shall Monsieur de Lafayette deprive the tiers etat of his enthusiasm, his earnest convictions, his talents, when, by an act of courage, entirely in accord with his conscience, he can become one of them and can lead them to victory and to that fusion with the other orders which is so vital to the usefulness, nay, to the very life of the States-General?”

“In my opinion there is less need that Monsieur de Lafayette should lead the tiers etat—­they will travel fast enough, I think,” says Mr. Morris, dryly—­“than that he should stick to his own order, strengthening in every way in his power this conservative element, which is the safeguard of the nation.  This annihilation of the distinctions of orders which you speak of seems to me to be the