"You are keeping something from me."
"Well, then--she loves me."

"I knew very well that you kissed me for somebody else," the poor
sister pouted, flushing red.

"We shall all be happy," cried Lucien, swallowing great spoonfuls of
soup.

"WE?" echoed Eve. The same presentiment that had crossed David's mind
prompted her to add, "You will not care so much about us now."

"How can you think that, if you know me?"
Eve put out her hand and grasped his tightly; then she carried off the

empty plate and the brown earthen soup-tureen, and brought the dish
that she had made for him. But instead of eating his dinner, Lucien

read his letter over again; and Eve, discreetmaiden, did not ask
another question, respecting her brother's silence. If he wished to

tell her about it, she could wait; if he did not, how could she ask
him to tell her? She waited. Here is the letter:--

"MY FRIEND,--Why should I refuse to your brother in science the
help that I have lent you? All merits have equal rights in my

eyes; but you do not know the prejudices of those among whom I
live. We shall never make an aristocracy of ignorance understand

that intellect ennobles. If I have not sufficient influence to
compel them to accept M. David Sechard, I am quite willing to

sacrifice the worthless creatures to you. It would be a perfect
hecatomb in the antique manner. But, dear friend, you would not,

of course, ask me to leave them all in exchange for the society of
a person whose character and manner might not please me. I know

from your flatteries how easily friendship can be blinded. Will
you think the worse of me if I attach a condition to my consent?

In the interests of your future I should like to see your friend,
and know and decide for myself whether you are not mistaken. What

is this but the mother's anxious care of my dear poet, which I am
in duty bound to take?

"LOUISE DE NEGREPELISSE."
Lucien had no suspicion of the art with which polite society puts

forward a "Yes" on the way to a "No," and a "No" that leads to a
"Yes." He took this note for a victory. David should go to Mme. de

Bargeton's house! David would shine there in all the majesty of his
genius! He raised his head so proudly in the intoxication of a victory

which increased his belief in himself and his ascendency over others,
his face was so radiant with the brightness of many hopes, that his

sister could not help telling him that he looked handsome.
"If that woman has any sense, she must love you! And if so, to-night

she will be vexed, for all the ladies will try all sorts of coquetries
on you. How handsome you will look when you read your Saint John in

Patmos! If only I were a mouse, and could just slip in and see it!
Come, I have put your clothes out in mother's room."

The mother's room bore witness to self-respectingpoverty. There were
white curtains to the walnut wood bedstead, and a strip of cheap green

carpet at the foot. A chest of drawers with a wooden top, a looking-
glass, and a few walnut wood chairs completed the furniture. The clock

on the chimney-piece told of the old vanished days of prosperity.
White curtains hung in the windows, a gray flowered paper covered the

walls, and the tiled floor, colored and waxed by Eve herself, shone
with cleanliness. On the little round table in the middle of the room

stood a red tray with a pattern of gilt roses, and three cups and a
sugar-basin of Limoges porcelain. Eve slept in the little adjoining

closet, where there was just room for a narrow bed, an old-fashioned
low chair, and a work-table by the window; there was about as much

space as there is in a ship's cabin, and the door always stood open
for the sake of air. But if all these things spoke of great poverty,

the atmosphere was sedate and studious; and for those who knew the
mother and children, there was something touchingly appropriate in

their surroundings.
Lucien was tying his cravat when David's step sounded outside in the

little yard, and in another moment the young printer appeared. From
his manner and looks he seemed to have come down in a hurry.

"Well, David!" cried the ambitious poet, "we have gained the day! She
loves me! You shall come too."

"No," David said with some confusion, "I came down to thank you for
this proof of friendship, but I have been thinking things over

seriously. My own life is cut out for me, Lucien. I am David Sechard,
printer to His Majesty in Angouleme, with my name at the bottom of the

bills posted on every wall. For people of that class, I am an artisan,
or I am in business, if you like it better, but I am a craftsman who

lives over a shop in the Rue de Beaulieu at the corner of the Place du
Murier. I have not the wealth of a Keller just yet, nor the name of a

Desplein, two sorts of power that the nobles still try to ignore, and
--I am so far agreed with them--this power is nothing without a

knowledge of the world and the manners of a gentleman. How am I to
prove my claim to this sudden elevation? I should only make myself a

laughing-stock for nobles and bourgeoisie to boot. As for you, your
position is different. A foreman is not committed to anything. You are

busy gaining knowledge that will be indispensable by and by; you can
explain your present work by your future. And, in any case, you can

leave your place to-morrow and begin something else; you might study
law or diplomacy, or go into civil service. Nobody had docketed and

pigeon-holed YOU, in fact. Take advantage of your social maiden fame
to walk alone and grasp honors. Enjoy all pleasures gladly, even

frivolous pleasures. I wish you luck, Lucien; I shall enjoy your
success; you will be like a second self for me. Yes, in my own

thoughts I shall live your life. You shall have the holiday life, in
the glare of the world and among the swift working springs of

intrigue. I will lead the work-a-day life, the tradesman's life of
sober toil, and the patient labor of scientific research.

"You shall be our aristocracy," he went on, looking at Eve as he
spoke. "If you totter, you shall have my arm to steady you. If you

have reason to complain of the treachery of others, you will find a
refuge in our hearts, the love there will never change. And influence

and favor and the goodwill of others might fail us if we were two; we
should stand in each other's way; go forward, you can tow me after you

if it comes to that. So far from envying you, I will dedicate my life
to yours. The thing that you have just done for me, when you risked

the loss of your benefactress, your love it may be, rather than
forsake or disown me, that little thing, so great as it was--ah, well,

Lucien, that in itself would bind me to you forever if we were not
brothers already. Have no remorse, no concern over seeming to take the

larger share. This one-sided bargain is exactly to my taste. And,
after all, suppose that you should give me a pang now and again, who

knows that I shall not still be your debtor all my life long?"
He looked timidly towards Eve as he spoke; her eyes were full of

tears, she saw all that lay below the surface.
"In fact," he went on, turning to Lucien, who stood amazed at this,

"you are well made, you have a graceful figure, you wear your clothes
with an air, you look like a gentleman in that blue coat of yours with

the yellow buttons and the plain nankeen trousers; now I should look
like a workingman among those people, I should be awkward and out of

my element, I should say foolish things, or say nothing at all; but as
for you, you can overcome any prejudice as to names by taking your

mother's; you can call yourself Lucien de Rubempre; I am and always
shall be David Sechard. In this society that you frequent, everything

tells for you, everything would tell against me. You were born to
shine in it. Women will worship that angel face of yours; won't they,

Eve?"
Lucien sprang up and flung his arms about David. David's humility had

made short work of many doubts and plenty of difficulties. Was it
possible not to feel twice tenderly towards this friend, who by the

way of friendship had come to think the very thoughts that he, Lucien,
had reached through ambition? The aspirant for love and honors felt

that the way had been made smooth for him; the young man and the
comrade felt all his heart go out towards his friend.

It was one of those moments that come very seldom in our lives, when
all the forces in us are sweetly strung, and every chord vibrating

gives out full resonance.
And yet, this goodness of a noble nature increased Lucien's human

tendency to take himself as the centre of things. Do not all of us say
more or less, "L'Etat, c'est moi!" with Louis Quatorze? Lucien's

mother and sister had concentrated all their tenderness on him, David
was his devoted friend; he was accustomed to see the three making