thought that Rastignac was adorable. Then, woman-like, being at a
loss how to reply to the student's out
spokenadmiration, she
answered a
previous remark.
"Yes, it is very wrong of my sister to treat our poor father as
she does," she said; "he has been a Providence to us. It was not
until M. de Nucingen
positively ordered me only to receive him in
the mornings that I yielded the point. But I have been
unhappyabout it for a long while; I have shed many tears over it. This
violence to my feelings, with my husband's
brutaltreatment, have
been two causes of my
unhappy married life. There is certainly no
woman in Paris whose lot seems more enviable than mine, and yet,
in
reality, there is not one so much to be pitied. You will think
I must be out of my senses to talk to you like this; but you know
my father, and I cannot regard you as a stranger."
"You will find no one," said Eugene, "who longs as
eagerly as I
do to be yours. What do all women seek? Happiness." (He answered
his own question in low, vibrating tones.) "And if happiness for
a woman means that she is to be loved and adored, to have a
friend to whom she can pour out her wishes, her fancies, her
sorrows and joys; to whom she can lay bare her heart and soul,
and all her fair defects and her
gracious virtues, without fear
of a betrayal; believe me, the
devotion and the
warmth that never
fails can only be found in the heart of a young man who, at a
bare sign from you, would go to his death, who neither knows nor
cares to know anything as yet of the world, because you will be
all the world to him. I myself, you see (you will laugh at my
simplicity), have just come from a
remote country district; I am
quite new to this world of Paris; I have only known true and
loving hearts; and I made up my mind that here I should find no
love. Then I chanced to meet my cousin, and to see my cousin's
heart from very near; I have divined the inexhaustible treasures
of
passion, and, like Cherubino, I am the lover of all women,
until the day comes when I find THE woman to whom I may devote
myself. As soon as I saw you, as soon as I came into the theatre
this evening, I felt myself borne towards you as if by the
current of a
stream. I had so often thought of you already, but I
had never dreamed that you would be so beautiful! Mme. de
Beauseant told me that I must not look so much at you. She does
not know the charm of your red lips, your fair face, nor see how
soft your eyes are. . . . I also am
beginning to talk nonsense;
but let me talk."
Nothing pleases a woman better than to listen to such whispered
words as these; the most puritanical among them listens even when
she ought not to reply to them; and Rastignac, having once begun,
continued to pour out his story, dropping his voice, that she
might lean and listen; and Mme. de Nucingen, smiling, glanced
from time to time at de Marsay, who still sat in the Princesse
Galathionne's box.
Rastignac did not leave Mme. de Nucingen till her husband came to
take her home.
"Madame," Eugene said, "I shall have the pleasure of
calling upon
you before the Duchesse de Carigliano's ball."
"If Matame infites you to come," said the Baron, a thickset
Alsatian, with indications of a
sinistercunning in his full-moon
countenance, "you are quide sure of being well receifed."
"My affairs seem to be in a
promising way," said Eugene to
himself.--" 'Can you love me?' I asked her, and she did not
resent it. The bit is in the horse's mouth, and I have only to
mount and ride;" and with that he went to pay his respects to
Mme. de Beauseant, who was leaving the theatre on d'Ajuda's arm.
The student did not know that the Baroness' thoughts had been
wandering; that she was even then expecting a letter from de
Marsay, one of those letters that bring about a rupture that
rends the soul; so, happy in his
delusion, Eugene went with the
Vicomtesse to the peristyle, where people were
waiting till their
carriages were announced.
"That cousin of yours is hardly recognizable for the same man,"
said the Portuguese laughingly to the Vicomtesse, when Eugene had
taken leave of them. "He will break the bank. He is as supple as
an eel; he will go a long way, of that I am sure. Who else could
have picked out a woman for him, as you did, just when she needed
consolation?"
"But it is not certain that she does not still love the faithless
lover," said Mme. de Beauseant.
The student
meanwhile walked back from the Theatre-Italien to the
Rue Neuve-Sainte-Genevieve, making the most
delightful plans as
he went. He had noticed how closely Mme. de Restaud had