“What, do you think the Marshal would forget—­”

“The Marshal has already taken your part so warmly at a General Meeting of the Ministers, that you will not now be turned out; but it was seriously discussed!  So give them no excuse.  I can say no more.  At this moment you may make your own terms; you may sit on the Council of State and be made a Peer of the Chamber.  If you delay too long, if you give any one a hold against you, I can answer for nothing.—­Now, am I to go?”

“Wait a little.  I will see the Marshal,” replied Hulot, “and I will send my brother to see which way the wind blows at headquarters.”

The humor in which the Baron came back to Madame Marneffe’s may be imagined; he had almost forgotten his fatherhood, for Roger had taken the part of a true and kind friend in explaining the position.  At the same time Valerie’s influence was so great that, by the middle of dinner, the Baron was tuned up to the pitch, and was all the more cheerful for having unwonted anxieties to conceal; but the hapless man was not yet aware that in the course of that evening he would find himself in a cleft stick, between his happiness and the danger pointed out by his friend—­compelled, in short, to choose between Madame Marneffe and his official position.

At eleven o’clock, when the evening was at its gayest, for the room was full of company, Valerie drew Hector into a corner of her sofa.

“My dear old boy,” said she, “your daughter is so annoyed at knowing that Wenceslas comes here, that she has left him ‘planted.’  Hortense is wrong-headed.  Ask Wenceslas to show you the letter the little fool has written to him.

“This division of two lovers, of which I am reputed to be the cause, may do me the greatest harm, for this is how virtuous women undermine each other.  It is disgraceful to pose as a victim in order to cast the blame on a woman whose only crime is that she keeps a pleasant house.  If you love me, you will clear my character by reconciling the sweet turtle-doves.

“I do not in the least care about your son-in-law’s visits; you brought him here—­take him away again!  If you have any authority in your family, it seems to me that you may very well insist on your wife’s patching up this squabble.  Tell the worthy old lady from me, that if I am unjustly charged with having caused a young couple to quarrel, with upsetting the unity of a family, and annexing both the father and the son-in-law, I will deserve my reputation by annoying them in my own way!  Why, here is Lisbeth talking of throwing me over!  She prefers to stick to her family, and I cannot blame her for it.  She will throw me over, says she, unless the young people make friends again.  A pretty state of things!  Our expenses here will be trebled!”

“Oh, as for that!” said the Baron, on hearing of his daughter’s strong measures, “I will have no nonsense of that kind.”

“Very well,” said Valerie.  “And now for the next thing.—­What about Coquet’s place?”