“Yes, he has not much to complain of; Bourges is the capital of Charles VII . Do you not know that all Paris knew it yesterday, and the day before it had already transpired on the Bourse, and M. Danglars (I do not know by what means that man contrives to obtain intelligence as soon as we do) made a million!”
“And you another order, for I see you have a blue ribbon at your buttonhole.”
“Yes; they sent me the order of Charles III ,” returned Debray carelessly.
“Come, do not affect indifference, but confess you were pleased to have it.”
“Oh, it is very well as a finish to the toilet. It looks very neat on a black coat buttoned up.”
“And makes you resemble the Prince of Wales or the Duke of Reichstadt.”
“It is for that reason you see me so early.”
“Because you have the order of Charles III , and you wish to announce the good news to me?”
“No, because I passed the night writing letters—five-and-twenty despatches. I returned home at daybreak, and strove to sleep; but my head ached and I got up to have a ride for an hour. At the Bois de Boulogne, ennui and hunger attacked me at once—two enemies who rarely accompany each other, and who are yet leagued against me, a sort of Carlo-republican alliance. I then recollected you gave a breakfast this morning, and here I am. I am hungry, feed me; I am bored, amuse me.”
“It is my duty as your host,” returned Albert, ringing the bell, while Lucien turned over, with his gold-mounted cane, the papers that lay on