“If you can commit that little fop Lucien de Rubempre for trial, and secure his condemnation,” said she in his ear, “you will be Councillor to the Supreme Court——­”

“How?”

“Madame d’Espard longs to see that poor young man guillotined.  I shivered as I heard what a pretty woman’s hatred can be!”

“Do not meddle in questions of the law,” said Camusot.

“I! meddle!” said she.  “If a third person could have heard us, he could not have guessed what we were talking about.  The Marquise and I were as exquisitely hypocritical to each other as you are to me at this moment.  She began by thanking me for your good offices in her suit, saying that she was grateful in spite of its having failed.  She spoke of the terrible functions devolved on you by the law, ’It is fearful to have to send a man to the scaffold—­but as to that man, it would be no more than justice,’ and so forth.  Then she lamented that such a handsome young fellow, brought to Paris by her cousin, Madame du Chatelet, should have turned out so badly.  ‘That,’ said she, ’is what bad women like Coralie and Esther bring young men to when they are corrupt enough to share their disgraceful profits!’ Next came some fine speeches about charity and religion!  Madame du Chatelet had said that Lucien deserved a thousand deaths for having half killed his mother and his sister.

“Then she spoke of a vacancy in the Supreme Court—­she knows the Keeper of the Seals.  ’Your husband, madame, has a fine opportunity of distinguishing himself,’ she said in conclusion—­and that is all.”

“We distinguish ourselves every day when we do our duty,” said Camusot.

“You will go far if you are always the lawyer even to your wife,” cried Madame Camusot.  “Well, I used to think you a goose.  Now I admire you.”

The lawyer’s lips wore one of those smiles which are as peculiar to them as dancers’ smiles are to dancers.

“Madame, can I come in?” said the maid.

“What is it?” said her mistress.

“Madame, the head lady’s-maid came from the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse while you were out, and she will be obliged if you would go at once to the Hotel de Cadignan.”

“Keep dinner back,” said the lawyer’s wife, remembering that the driver of the hackney coach that had brought her home was waiting to be paid.

She put her bonnet on again, got into the coach, and in twenty minutes was at the Hotel de Cadignan.  Madame Camusot was led up the private stairs, and sat alone for ten minutes in a boudoir adjoining the Duchess’ bedroom.  The Duchess presently appeared, splendidly dressed, for she was starting for Saint-Cloud in obedience to a Royal invitation.

“Between you and me, my dear, a few words are enough.”

“Yes, Madame la Duchesse.”