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Rh Since I have been persuaded to overlook it, I trust that at least you have some intention of reforming."

"I ... I will abstain from politics," said André-Louis, that being the utmost he could say with truth.

"That is something, at least." His godfather permitted himself to be mollified, now that a concession—or a seeming concession—had been made to his just resentment.

"A chair, monsieur."

"No, no. I have come to carry you off to pay a visit with me.  You owe it entirely to Mme. de Plougastel that I consent to receive you again.  I desire that you come with me to thank her."

"I have my engagements here..." began Andre-Louis, and then broke off. "No matter! I will arrange it.  A moment." And he was turning away to reënter the academy.

"What are your engagements? You are not by chance a fencing-instructor?" M. de Kercadiou had observed the leather waistcoat and the foil tucked under André-Louis' arm.

"I am the master of this academy—the academy of the late Bertrand des Amis, the most flourishing school of arms in Paris to-day."

M. de Kercadiou's brows went up.

"And you are master of it?"

"Maître en fait d'Armes. I succeeded to the academy upon the death of des Amis."

He left M. Kercadiou to think it over, and went to make his arrangements and effect the necessary changes in his toilet.

"So that is why you have taken to wearing a sword," said M. de Kercadiou, as they climbed into his waiting carriage.

"That and the need to guard one's self in these times."

"And do you mean to tell me that a man who lives by what is after all an honourable profession, a profession mainly supported by the nobility, can at the same time associate himself with these peddling attorneys and low pamphleteers