On the first floor, divided in two by an entresol, were the living rooms and office of Monsieur Ernest de la Briere, an occult and powerful personage who must be described in a few words, for he well deserves the parenthesis.  This young man held, during the whole time that this particular administration lasted, the position of private secretary to the minister.  His apartment was connected by a secret door with the private office of his Excellency.  A private secretary is to the minister himself what des Lupeaulx was to the ministry at large.  The same difference existed between young La Briere and des Lupeaulx that there is between an aide-de-camp and a chief of staff.  This ministerial apprentice decamps when his protector leaves office, returning sometimes when he returns.  If the minister enjoys the royal favor when he falls, or still has parliamentary hopes, he takes his secretary with him into retirement only to bring him back on his return; otherwise he puts him to grass in some of the various administrative pastures,—­for instance, in the Court of Exchequer, that wayside refuge where private secretaries wait for the storm to blow over.  The young man is not precisely a government official; he is a political character, however; and sometimes his politics are limited to those of one man.  When we think of the number of letters it is the private secretary’s fate to open and read, besides all his other avocations, it is very evident that under a monarchical government his services would be well paid for.  A drudge of this kind costs ten or twenty thousand francs a year; and he enjoys, moreover, the opera-boxes, the social invitations, and the carriages of the minister.  The Emperor of Russia would be thankful to be able to pay fifty thousand a year to one of these amiable constitutional poodles, so gentle, so nicely curled, so caressing, so docile, always spick and span, —­careful watch-dogs besides, and faithful to a degree!  But the private secretary is a product of the representative government hot-house; he is propagated and developed there, and there only.  Under a monarchy you will find none but courtiers and vassals, whereas under a constitutional government you may be flattered, served, and adulated by free men.  In France ministers are better off than kings or women; they have some one who thoroughly understands them.  Perhaps, indeed, the private secretary is to be pitied as much as women and white paper.  They are nonentities who are made to bear all things.  They are allowed no talents except hidden ones, which must be employed in the service of their ministers.  A public show of talent would ruin them.  The private secretary is therefore an intimate friend in the gift of government—­ However, let us return to the bureaus.

Three men-servants lived in peace in the Billardiere division, to wit:  a footman for the two bureaus, another for the service of the two chiefs, and a third for the director of the division himself.  All three were lodged, warmed, and clothed by the State, and wore the well-known livery of the State, blue coat with red pipings for undress, and broad red, white, and blue braid for great occasions.  La Billardiere’s man had the air of a gentleman-usher, an innovation which gave an aspect of dignity to the division.