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evening; to appear elegantly arrayed, agreeably to the laws that



regulate a man's clothes, at eight o'clock, at noon, four o'clock in

the afternoon, and in the evening; to be well received at every



embassy, and to cull the short-lived flowers of superficial,

cosmopolitan friendships; to be not insufferably handsome, to carry



your head, your coat, and your name well; to inhabit a charming little

entresol after the pattern of the rooms just described on the Quai



Malaquais; to be able to ask a party of friends to dine at the Rocher

de Cancale without a previousconsultation with your trousers' pocket;



never to be pulled up in any rationalproject by the words, 'And the

money?' and finally, to be able to renew at pleasure the pink rosettes



that adorn the ears of three thoroughbreds and the lining of your hat?

"To such inquiry any ordinary young man (and we ourselves that are not



ordinary men) would reply that the happiness is incomplete; that it is

like the Madeleine without the altar; that a man must love and be



loved, or love without return, or be loved without loving, or love at

cross purposes. Now for happiness as a mental condition.



"In January 1823, after Godefroid de Beaudenord had set foot in the

various social circles which it pleased him to enter, and knew his way



about in them, and felt himself secure amid these joys, he saw the

necessity of a sunshade--the advantage of having a great lady to



complain of, instead of chewing the stems of roses bought for

fivepence apiece of Mme. Prevost, after the manner of the callow



youngsters that chirp and cackle in the lobbies of the Opera, like

chickens in a coop. In short, he resolved to centre his ideas, his



sentiments, his affections upon a woman, ONE WOMAN?--LA PHAMME!

Ah! . . . .



"At first he conceived the preposterous notion of an unhappypassion,

and gyrated for a while about his fair cousin, Mme. d'Aiglemont, not



perceiving that she had already danced the waltz in Faust with a

diplomatist. The year '25 went by, spent in tentatives, in futile



flirtations, and an unsuccessful quest. The loving object of which he

was in search did not appear. Passion is extremely rare; and in our



time as many barriers have been raised against passion in social life

as barricades in the streets. In truth, my brothers, the 'improper' is



gaining upon us, I tell you!

"As we may incur reproach for following on the heels of portrait



painters, auctioneers, and fashionable dressmakers, I will not inflict

any description upon you of HER in whom Godefroid recognized the



female of his species. Age, nineteen; height, four feet eleven inches;

fair hair, eyebrows idem, blue eyes, forehead neither high nor low,



curved nose, little mouth, short turned-up chin, oval face;

distinguishing signs--none. Such was the description on the passport



of the beloved object. You will not ask more than the police, or their

worships the mayors, of all the towns and communes of France, the



gendarmes and the rest of the powers that be? In other respects--I

give you my word for it--she was a rough sketch of a Venus dei



Medici.

"The first time that Godefroid went to one of the balls for which Mme.



de Nucingen enjoyed a certain not undeserved reputation, he caught a

glimpse of his future lady-love in a quadrille, and was set marveling



by that height of four feet eleven inches. The fair hair rippled in a

shower of curls about the little girlish head, she looked as fresh as



a naiad peeping out through the crystal pane of her stream to take a

look at the spring flowers. (This is quite in the modern style,



strings of phrases as endless as the macaroni on the table a while

ago.) On that 'eyebrows idem' (no offence to the prefect of police)



Parny, that writer of light and playful verse, would have hung half-a-

dozen couplets, comparing them very agreeably to Cupid's bow, at the



same time bidding us to observe that the dart was beneath; the said

dart, however, was neither very potent nor very penetrating, for as



yet it was controlled by the namby-pamby sweetness of a Mlle. de la

Valliere as depicted on fire-screens, at the moment when she



solemnizes her betrothal in the sight of heaven, any solemnization

before the registrar being quite out to the question.



"You know the effect of fair hair and blue eyes in the soft,




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