"I have only two more silver buttons to sew on the waistcoat," added the third.
"That is well, girls," said Dame Roberts. "M. Cloarek's costume will be one of the most effective there, I am sure."
"It seems very odd to think of a judge in a masquerade costume, all the same."
"Nonsense! don't they disguise themselves every day when they put their robes on?"
"A judge's robe is not a disguise, but a badge of office, you ought to understand," said Dame Roberts, severely.
"Excuse me, Dame Roberts," replied the offender, blushing to the roots of her hair, "I meant no harm, I am sure."
"What a pity it is that Madame Cloarek is not going!" remarked one of the other girls, in the hope of giving a more agreeable turn to the conversation.
"Ah, if I were in Madame Cloarek's place, I wouldn't miss such an opportunity. A masquerade ball! why, it is a piece of good fortune that may present itself but once in a lifetime. But here comes M. Segoffin. Good day, M. Segoffin! And how does M. Segoffin find himself to-day?"
The newcomer was a tall, thin man about forty years of age, with an immensely long nose, slightly turned up at the end, which imparted a very peculiar expression to his face. His complexion was so white and his beardless face so impassible that he looked exactly like a clown, and the resemblance was heightened by a pair of piercing black eyes, which gave a mocking expression to his face, and by a small, round black wig. A long gray overcoat, brown knee-breeches, blue and white striped stockings, and low shoes with big silver buckles formed the every-day costume of M. Segoffin, who carried a red umbrella under his arm and an old cocked hat in his hand.
After having remained twenty years in the service of M. Cloarek's father, at that gentleman's death he transferred his allegiance to the son whom he had known as a child, and whom he served with unwearying devotion.