“True,” said Marmontel; “and for the honour of Paris, we must convince him that he has taken up false notions, and that there is such a thing as conjugal fidelity and domestic happiness here.”
“Bon. That is peculiarly incumbent on the author of Les Contes Moraux,” said the Abbé.
It happened, fortunately for our hero, that Madame de Connal was, about this time, engaged to pass a fortnight at the country house of Madame de Clairville. During her absence, the good Abbé had time to put in execution all his benevolent intentions, and introduced his young friend to some of the really good company of Paris. He pointed out to him at Madame Geoffrin’s, Madame de Tencin’s, Madame du Detfand’s, and Madame Trudaine’s, the difference between the society at the house of a rich farmer general—or at the house of one connected with the court, and with people in place and political power—and the society of mixed rank and literature. The mere passing pictures of these things, to one who was not to live in Paris, might not, perhaps, except as a matter of curiosity, be of much value; but his judicious friend led Ormond from these to make comparisons and deductions which were of use to him all his life afterwards.
CHAPTER XXX.
One morning when Ormond awoke, the first thing he heard was, that a person from Ireland was below, who was very impatient to see him. It was Patrickson, Sir Ulick O’Shane’s confidential man of business.
“What news from Castle Hermitage?” cried Ormond, starting up in his bed, surprised at the sight of Patrickson.
“The best that can be—never saw Sir Ulick in such heart—he has a share of the loan, and—”
“And what news of the Annalys?” interrupted Ormond.