"Quite poetical, on my word! Worthy of Sadi, the Arab Petrarch, himself!" said Château-Renaud.
"He is decidedly a great man, that Abd-el-Kader. They say he bears his misfortunes like a philosopher--or, better, a Turk--unalterably mild and dignified, while his wives and his mother wail at his feet. Every morning he reads the Koran to them, and during the orisons all the windows are open, and a large fire blazes in the centre of the room."
"He is a decided godsend to the quidnuncs of Paris."
"So would be a Hottentot, or a North American savage," replied Beauchamp.
"Rather a different affair this from the Ministerial soirée a week ago, I fancy," remarked the editor.
"Rather. I will confess to you, Beauchamp, I attended that soirée from curiosity to see whether M. Guizot retained his habitual placidity of manner amid the clouds every day thickening around him."
"And what was the result?"
"Why, this. He was as polite and courteous as ever, and the same cold, imperturbable smile was on his thin lip; but he looked careworn, and upon his countenance was an expression of solicitude, when it was closely watched, which I never saw there before. Ah, Beauchamp, I envy not the Premier!"
"And the guests?" asked the journalist.
"Of guests there were but few; and the spacious salons of the Hôtel des Affaires Étrangères looked dismal and deserted."
"The lovely Countess Leven--"
"Even she was absent."
"And the Countess of Dino?"
"Absent, too."
"The soirée must have been, indeed, dull without those 'charming queens of intrigue,' as Louis Blanc courteously calls them. But tell me, Count, is the Minister really the husband of the beautiful Leven, or is she only his par amours?"
"No one knows. It is certain, however, that the great man devotes to the enchantress every moment he can steal from the State, though to look at him one would hardly suppose him a lover, in any meaning of the term. But who knows? To read his writings can one imagine a purer man? But, then, the affairs of Gisquet, Cubières, Teste, and, last and worst, Petit, whose case was before the Chamber, do they not betray deplorable lack of firmness or morality? But no more of this. Who is that dark, splendid woman to whom young Joliette seems so devoted? I have seen them together before!"
"Why, you surely have not forgotten Louise d'Armilly, the charming cantatrice! She has recently left the boards, to the irreparable loss of the opera, having come into possession of an immense inheritance--some millions, it is said, left by her father, who was once a banker of Paris. She is asserted to be very accomplished and very ambitious, and, as the young African paladin is thoroughly bewitched by her, and she by him, they will, doubtless, be matched as well as paired."