in Bonapartist circles. His capital he handed over to Nucingen, who

gave him eight per cent upon it, and took over the loans to the
Imperial Government at a mere sixty per cent of reduction; wherefore

d'Aldrigger squeezed Nucingen's hand and said, 'I knew dot in you I
should find de heart of ein Elzacien.'

"(Nucingen was paid in full through our friend des Lupeaulx.) Well
fleeced as d'Aldrigger had been, he still possessed an income of

forty-four thousand francs; but his mortification was further
complicated by the spleen which lies in wait for the business man so

soon as he retires from business. He set himself, noble heart, to
sacrifice himself to his wife, now that her fortune was lost, that

fortune of which she had allowed herself to be despoiled so easily,
after the manner of a girl entirely ignorant of money matters. Mme.

d'Aldrigger accordingly missed not a single pleasure to which she had
been accustomed; any void caused by the loss of Strasbourg

acquaintances were speedily filled, and more than filled, with Paris
gaieties.

"Even then as now the Nucingens lived at the higher end of financial
society, and the Baron de Nucingen made it a point of honor to treat

the honest banker well. His disinterested virtue looked well in the
Nucingen salon.

"Every winter dipped into d'Aldrigger's principal, but he did not
venture to remonstrate with his pearl of a Wilhelmine. His was the

most ingenious unintelligent tenderness in the world. A good man, but
a stupid one! 'What will become of them when I am gone?' he said, as

he lay dying; and when he was left alone for a moment with Wirth, his
old man-servant, he struggled for breath to bid him take care of his

mistress and her two daughters, as if the one reasonable being in the
house was this Alsacien Caleb Balderstone.

"Three years afterwards, in 1826, Isaure was twenty years old, and
Malvina still unmarried. Malvina had gone into society, and in course

of time discovered for herself how superficial their friendships were,
how accurately every one was weighed and appraised. Like most girls

that have been 'well brought up,' as we say, Malvina had no idea of
the mechanism of life, of the importance of money, of the difficulty

of obtaining it, of the prices of things. And so, for six years, every
lesson that she had learned had been a painful one for her.

"D'Aldrigger's four hundred thousand francs were carried to the credit
of the Baroness' account with the firm of Nucingen (she was her

husband's creditor for twelve hundred thousand francs under her
marriage settlement), and when in any difficulty the Shepherdess of

the Alps dipped into her capital as though it were inexhaustible.
"When our pigeon first advanced towards his dove, Nucingen, knowing

the Baroness' character, must have spokenplainly to Malvina on the
financial position. At that time three hundred thousand francs were

left; the income of twenty-four thousand francs was reduced to
eighteen thousand. Wirth had kept up this state of things for three

years! After that confidentialinterview, Malvina put down the
carriage, sold the horses, and dismissed the coachman, without her

mother's knowledge. The furniture, now ten years old, could not be
renewed, but it all faded together, and for those that like harmony

the effect was not half bad. The Baroness herself, that so well-
preserved flower, began to look like the last solitary frost-touched

rose on a November bush. I myself watched the slow decline of luxury
by half-tones and semi-tones! Frightful, upon my honor! It was my last

trouble of the kind; afterwards I said to myself, 'It is silly to care
so much about other people.' But while I was in civil service, I was

fool enough to take a personal interest in the houses where I dined; I
used to stand up for them; I would say no ill of them myself; I--oh! I

was a child.
"Well, when the ci-devant pearl's daughter put the state of the case

before her, 'Oh my poor children,' cried she, 'who will make my
dresses now? I cannot afford new bonnets; I cannot see visitors here

nor go out.'--Now by what token do you know that a man is in love?"
said Bixiou, interrupting himself. "The question is, whether

Beaudenord was genuinely in love with the fair-haired girl."
"He neglects his interests," said Couture.

"He changes his shirt three times a day," opined Blondet; "a man of
more than ordinary ability, can he, and ought he, to fall in love?"

"My friends," resumed Bixiou, with a sentimental air, "there is a kind
of man who, when he feels that he is in peril of falling in love, will

snap his fingers or fling away his cigar (as the case may be) with a
'Pooh! there are other women in the world.' Beware of that man for a

dangerous reptile. Still, the Government may employ that citizen
somewhere in the Foreign Office. Blondet, I call your attention to the

fact that this Godefroid had thrown up diplomacy."
"Well, he was absorbed," said Blondet. "Love gives the fool his one

chance of growing great."
"Blondet, Blondet, how is it that we are so poor?" cried Bixiou.

"And why is Finot so rich?" returned Blondet. "I will tell you how it
is; there, my son, we understand each other. Come, there is Finot

filling up my glass as if I had carried in his firewood. At the end of
dinner one ought to sip one's wine slowly,--Well?"

"Thou has said. The absorbed Godefroid became fully acquainted with
the family--the tall Malvina, the frivolous Baroness, and the little

lady of the dance. He became a servant after the most conscientious
and restricted fashion. He was not scared away by the cadaverous

remains of opulence; not he! by degrees he became accustomed to the
threadbare condition of things. It never struck the young man that the

green silk damask and white ornaments in the drawing-room needed
refurnishing. The curtains, the tea-table, the knick-knacks on the

chimney-piece, the rococo chandelier, the Eastern carpet with the pile
worn down to the thread, the pianoforte, the little flowered china

cups, the fringed serviettes so full of holes that they looked like
open work in the Spanish fashion, the green sitting-room with the

Baroness' blue bedroom beyond it,--it was all sacred, all dear to him.
It is only your stupid woman with the brilliant beauty that throws

heart, brain, and soul into the shade, who can inspire forgetfulness
like this; a clever woman never abuses her advantages; she must be

small-natured and silly to gain such a hold upon a man. Beaudenord
actually loved the solemn old Wirth--he has told me so himself!

"That old rogue regarded his future master with the awe which a good
Catholic feels for the Eucharist. Honest Wirth was a kind of Gaspard,

a beer-drinking German sheathing his cunning in good-nature, much as a
cardinal in the Middle Ages kept his dagger up his sleeve. Wirth saw a

husband for Isaure, and accordingly proceeded to surround Godefroid
with the mazy circumlocutions of his Alsacien's geniality, that most

adhesive of all known varieties of bird-lime.
"Mme. d'Aldrigger was radically 'improper.' She thought love the most

natural thing imaginable. When Isaure and Malvina went out together to
the Champs Elysees or the Tuileries, where they were sure to meet the

young men of their set, she would simply say, 'A pleasant time to you,
dear girls.' Their friends among men, the only persons who might have

slandered the sisters, championed them; for the extraordinary liberty
permitted in the d'Aldriggers' salon made it unique in Paris. Vast

wealth could scarcely have procured such evenings, the talk was good
on any subject; dress was not insisted upon; you felt so much at home

there that you could ask for supper. The sisters corresponded as they
pleased, and quietly read their letters by their mother's side; it

never occurred to the Baroness to interfere in any way; the adorable
woman gave the girls the full benefits of her selfishness" target="_blank" title="n.自私；不顾别人">selfishness, and in a

certain sense selfish persons are the easiest to live with; they hate
trouble, and therefore do not trouble other people; they never beset

the lives of their fellow-creatures with thorny advice and captious
fault-finding; nor do they torment you with the waspish solicitude of

excessive affection that must know all things and rule all things----"
"This comes home," said Blondet, "but my dear fellow, this is not

telling a story, this is blague----"
"Blondet, if you were not tipsy, I should really feel hurt! He is the

one serious literarycharacter among us; for his benefit, I honor you
by treating you like men of taste, I am distilling my tale for you,