Cerizet, who had an eye as nimble as a hand, instantly noticed a certain fact. La Peyrade, who was so placed as to be plainly seen by the new-comer, no sooner heard that drawling, honeyed voice, than he turned his head in a manner to conceal his features. Instead therefore of being roughly sent away, as usually happened to petitioners who addressed the most surly of official clerks, the modest visitor heard herself greeted in a very surprising manner.
“Come in, come in, Madame Lambert,” said Cerizet; “you won’t be kept waiting long; come in.”
The visitor advanced, and then came face to face with la Peyrade.
“Ah! monsieur!” cried his creditor, whom the reader has no doubt recognized, “how fortunate I am to meet monsieur! I have been several times to his office to ask if he had had time to attend to my little affair.”
“I have had many engagements which have kept me away from my office lately; but I attended to that matter; everything has been done right, and is now in the hands of the secretary.”
“Oh! how good monsieur is! I pray God to bless him,” said the pious woman, clasping her hands.
“Bless me! do you have business with Madame Lambert?” said Cerizet; “you never told me that. Are you Pere Picot’s counsel?”
“No, unfortunately,” said Madame Lambert, “my master won’t take any counsel; he is so self-willed, so obstinate! But, my good monsieur, what I came to ask is whether the family council is to meet.”
“Of course,” said Cerizet, “and not later than to-morrow.”
“But monsieur, I hear those gentlemen of the Royal court said the family had no rights—”