The other was an elderly man, with an unmistakable legal air about him.

He was dressed in a quilted dressing-gown, fur-lined shoes, and had on his head an embroidered cap, most likely the work of the hands of some one dear to him.

He wore a white cravat, and his sight compelled him to use colored glasses.
"Then, my dear sir," said the younger man, "I may venture to entertain hopes ?" "Remember, Marquis," returned the other, "that if I were acting alone, what you require would be at once at your disposal.

Unfortunately, I have others to consult." "I place myself entirely in your hands," replied the Marquis.
The appearance of the fashionably dressed young man reconciled Paul to the place in which he was.
"A Marquis!" he murmured; "and the other swell-looking fellow must be M.
Mascarin." Paul was about to step forward, when Beaumarchef respectfully accosted the last comer,-- "Who do you think, sir," said he, "I have just seen ?" "Tell me quickly," was the impatient reply.
"Caroline Schimmel; you know who I mean." "What! the woman who was in the service of the Duchess of Champdoce ?" "Exactly so." M.Mascarin uttered an exclamation of delight.
"Where is she living now ?" Beaumarchef was utterly overwhelmed by this simple question.

For the first time in his life he had omitted to take a client's address.