whose firmness did not exclude insolence: "I really
ask Madame’s pardon; Madame is mistaken. And,
if Madame is not content" . . . Then they
insisted no further, and that was the end of it.
Never in my life have I met masters having less
authority over their servants, or such ninnies!
Really, one is not to be led by the nose as they
were.
It is necessary to do William this justice,that he had known how to put things on a good footing in the box. William had a passion that is common among servants,—the passion for the races. He knew all the jockeys, all the trainers, all the book- makers, and also some very sporty gentlemen, barons and viscounts, who showed a certain friendship for him, knowing that he had astonishing tips from time to time. This passion, whose maintenance and satisfaction require numerous suburban excursions, does not harmonize with a restricted and sedentary calling, like that of a valet de chambre. Now, William had regulated his life in this way; after breakfast, he dressed and went out. How chic he was in his black and white check pantaloons, his highly-polished shoes, his putty- colored overcoat, and his hats! Oh! William’s hats, hats the color of deep water, in which skies, trees, streets, rivers, crowds, hippodromes, succeeded one another in prodigious reflections! He came back just in time to dress his master, and
