the midst of which were flaming portraits drawn in lines of fire) to

notice the naive admiration of one little Eve concealed in a group of
women. Marie's curiosity--like that which would undoubtedly

precipitate all Paris into the Jardin des Plantes to see a unicorn, if
such an animal could be found in those mountains of the moon, still

virgin of the tread of Europeans--intoxicates a secondary mind as much
as it saddens great ones; but Raoul was enchanted by it; although he

was then too anxious to secure all women to care very much for one
alone.

"Take care, my dear," said Marie's kind and graciouscompanion in her
ear, "and go home."

The countess looked at her husband to ask for his arm with one of
those glances which husbands do not always understand. Felix did so,

and took her home.
"My dear friend," said Madame d'Espard in Raoul's ear, "you are a

lucky fellow. You have made more than one conquest to-night, and among
them that of the charming woman who has just left us so abruptly."

"Do you know what the Marquise d'Espard meant by that?" said Raoul to
Rastignac, when they happened to be comparatively alone between one

and two o'clock in the morning.
"I am told that the Comtesse de Vandenesse has taken a violent fancy

to you. You are not to be pitied!" said Rastignac.
"I did not see her," said Raoul.

"Oh! but you will see her, you scamp!" cried Emile Blondet, who was
standing by. "Lady Dudley is going to ask you to her grand ball, that

you may meet the pretty countess."
Raoul and Blondet went off with Rastignac, who offered them his

carriage. All three laughed at the combination of an eclectic under-
secretary of State, a ferociousrepublican, and a political atheist.

"Suppose we sup at the expense of the present order of things?" said
Blondet, who would fain recall suppers to fashion.

Rastignac took them to Very's, sent away his carriage, and all three
sat down to table to analyze society with Rabelaisian laughs. During

the supper, Rastignac and Blondet advised their provisional enemy not
to neglect such a capital chance of advancement as the one now offered

to him. The two "roues" gave him, in fine satirical style, the history
of Madame Felix de Vandenesse; they drove the scalpel of epigram and

the sharp points of much good wit into that innocent girlhood and
happy marriage. Blondet congratulated Raoul on encountering a woman

guilty of nothing worse so far than horrible drawings in red chalk,
attenuated water-colors, slippers embroidered for a husband, sonatas

executed with the best intentions,--a girl tied to her mother's apron-
strings till she was eighteen, trussed for religious practices,

seasoned by Vandenesse, and cooked to a point by marriage. At the
third bottle of champagne, Raoul unbosomed himself as he had never

done before in his life.
"My friends," he said, "you know my relations with Florine; you also

know my life, and you will not be surprised to hear me say that I am
absolutely ignorant of what a countess's love may be like. I have

often felt mortified that I, a poet, could not give myself a Beatrice,
a Laura, except in poetry. A pure and noble woman is like an unstained

conscience,--she represents us to ourselves under a noble form.
Elsewhere we may soil ourselves, but with her we are always proud,

lofty, and immaculate. Elsewhere we lead ill-regulated lives; with her
we breathe the calm, the freshness, the verdure of an oasis--"

"Go on, go on, my dear fellow!" cried Rastignac; "twang that fourth
string with the prayer in 'Moses' like Paganini."

Raoul remained silent, with fixed eyes, apparently musing.
"This wretchedministerial apprentice does not understand me," he

said, after a moment's silence.
So, while the poor Eve in the rue du Rocher went to bed in the sheets

of shame, frightened at the pleasure with which she had listened to
that sham great poet, these three bold minds were trampling with jests

over the tender flowers of her dawning love. Ah! if women only knew
the cynical tone that such men, so humble, so fawning in their

presence, take behind their backs! how they sneer at what they say
they adore! Fresh, pure, gracious being, how the scoffing jester

disrobes and analyzes her! but, even so, the more she loses veils, the
more her beauty shines.

Marie was at this moment comparing Raoul and Felix, without imagining
the danger there might be for her in such comparisons. Nothing could

present a greater contrast than the disorderly, vigorous Raoul to
Felix de Vandenesse, who cared for his person like a dainty woman,

wore well-fitting clothes, had a charming "desinvoltura," and was a
votary of English nicety, to which, in earlier days, Lady Dudley had

trained him. Marie, as a good and pious woman, soon forbade herself
even to think of Raoul, and considered that she was a monster of

ingratitude for making the comparison.
"What do you think of Raoul Nathan?" she asked her husband the next

day at breakfast.
"He is something of a charlatan," replied Felix; "one of those

volcanoes who are easily calmed down with a little gold-dust. Madame
de Montcornet makes a mistake in admitting him."

This answer annoyed Marie, all the more because Felix supported his
opinion with certain facts, relating what he knew of Raoul Nathan's

life,--a precariousexistence mixed up with a popular actress.
"If the man has genius," he said in conclusion, "he certainly has

neither the constancy nor the patience which sanctifies it, and makes
it a thing divine. He endeavors to impose on the world by placing

himself on a level which he does nothing to maintain. True talent,
pains-taking and honorable talent does not act thus. Men who possess

such talent follow their path courageously; they accept its pains and
penalties, and don't cover them with tinsel."

A woman's thought is endowed with incredible elasticity. When she
receives a knockdown blow, she bends, seems crushed, and then renews

her natural shape in a given time.
"Felix is no doubt right," thought she.

But three days later she was once more thinking of the serpent,
recalled to him by that singularemotion, painful and yet sweet, which

the first sight of Raoul had given her. The count and countess went to
Lady Dudley's grand ball, where, by the bye, de Marsay appeared in

society for the last time. He died about two months later, leaving the
reputation of a great statesman, because, as Blondet remarked, he was

incomprehensible.
Vandenesse and his wife again met Raoul Nathan at this ball, which was

remarkable for the meeting of several personages of the political
drama, who were not a little astonished to find themselves together.

It was one of the first solemnities of the great world. The salons
presented a magnificentspectacle to the eye,--flowers, diamonds, and

brilliant head-dresses; all jewel-boxes emptied; all resources of the
toilet put under contribution. The ball-room might be compared to one

of those choice conservatories where rich horticulturists collect the
most superb rarities,--same brilliancy, same delicacy of texture. On

all sides white or tinted gauzes like the wings of the airiest dragon-
fly, crepes, laces, blondes, and tulles, varied as the fantasies of

entomological nature; dentelled, waved, and scalloped; spider's webs
of gold and silver; mists of silk embroidered by fairy fingers; plumes

colored by the fire of the tropics drooping from haughty heads; pearls
twined in braided hair; shot or ribbed or brocaded silks, as though

the genius of arabesque had presided over French manufactures,--all
this luxury was in harmony with the beauties collected there as if to

realize a "Keepsake." The eye received there an impression of the
whitest shoulders, some amber-tinted, others so polished as to seem

colandered, some dewy, some plump and satiny, as though Rubens had
prepared their flesh; in short, all shades known to man in white. Here

were eyes sparkling like onyx or turquoise fringed with dark lashes;
faces of variedoutline presenting the most graceful types of many

lands; foreheads noble and majestic, or softly rounded, as if thought
ruled, or flat, as if resistant will reigned there unconquered;

beautiful bosoms swelling, as George IV. admired them, or widely
parted after the fashion of the eighteenth century, or pressed

together, as Louis XV. required; some shown boldly, without veils,
others covered by those charming pleated chemisettes which Raffaelle

painted. The prettiest feet pointed for the dance, the slimmest waists
encircled in the waltz, stimulated the gaze of the most indifferent

person present. The murmur of sweet voices, the rustle of gowns, the
cadence of the dance, the whir of the waltz harmoniously accompanied