"Down below, eh?" said the artist, "in the little dark corner
where they put naughty boys."

"Well, mademoiselle," Vautrin said, turning to Victorine, "you
are eating nothing. So papa was refractory, was he?"

"A monster!" said Mme. Couture.
"Mademoiselle might make application for aliment pending her

suit; she is not eating anything. Eh! eh! just see how Father
Goriot is staring at Mlle. Victorine."

The old man had forgotten his dinner, he was so absorbed in
gazing at the poor girl; the sorrow in her face was

unmistakable,--the slighted love of a child whose father would
not recognize her.

"We are mistaken about Father Goriot, my dear boy," said Eugene
in a low voice. "He is not an idiot, nor wanting in energy. Try

your Gall system on him, and let me know what you think. I saw
him crush a silver dish last night as if it had been made of wax;

there seems to be something extra-ordinary going on in his mind
just now, to judge by his face. His life is so mysterious that it

must be worth studying. Oh! you may laugh, Bianchon; I am not
joking."

"The man is a subject, is he?" said Bianchon; "all right! I will
dissect him, if he will give me the chance."

"No; feel his bumps."
"Hm!--his stupidity might perhaps be contagious."

The next day Rastignac dressed himself very elegantly, and about
three o'clock in the afternoon went to call on Mme. de Restaud.

On the way thither he indulged in the wild intoxicating dreams
which fill a young head so full of deliciousexcitement. Young

men at his age take no account of obstacles nor of dangers; they
see success in every direction; imagination has free play, and

turns their lives into a romance; they are saddened or
discouraged by the collapse of one of the visionary schemes that

have no existence save in their heated fancy. If youth were not
ignorant and timid, civilization would be impossible.

Eugene took unheard-of pains to keep himself in a spotless
condition, but on his way through the streets he began to think

about Mme. de Restaud and what he should say to her. He equipped
himself with wit, rehearsed repartees in the course of an

imaginary conversation, and prepared certain neat speeches a la
Talleyrand, conjuring up a series of small events which should

prepare the way for the declaration on which he had based his
future; and during these musings the law student was bespattered

with mud, and by the time he reached the Palais Royal he was
obliged to have his boots blacked and his trousers brushed.

"If I were rich," he said, as he changed the five-franc piece he
had brought with him in case anything might happen, "I would take

a cab, then I could think at my ease."
At last he reached the Rue du Helder, and asked for the Comtesse

de Restaud. He bore the contemptuous glances of the servants, who
had seen him cross the court on foot, with the cold fury of a man

who knows that he will succeed some day. He understood the
meaning of their glances at once, for he had felt his inferiority

as soon as he entered the court, where a smart cab was waiting.
All the delights of life in Paris seemed to be implied by this

visible and manifest sign of luxury and extravagance. A fine
horse, in magnificentharness, was pawing the ground, and all at

once the law student felt out of humor with himself. Every
compartment in his brain which he had thought to find so full of

wit was bolted fast; he grew positivelystupid. He sent up his
name to the Countess, and waited in the ante-chamber, standing on

one foot before a window that looked out upon the court;
mechanically he leaned his elbow against the sash, and stared

before him. The time seemed long; he would have left the house
but for the southern tenacity of purpose which works miracles

when it is single-minded.
"Madame is in her boudoir, and cannot see any one at present,

sir," said the servant. "She gave me no answer; but if you will
go into the dining-room, there is some one already there."

Rastignac was impressed with a sense of the formidable power of
the lackey who can accuse or condemn his masters by a word; he

coolly opened the door by which the man had just entered the
ante-chamber, meaning, no doubt, to show these insolent flunkeys

that he was familiar with the house; but he found that he had
thoughtlessly precipitated himself into a small room full of

dressers, where lamps were standing, and hot-water pipes, on
which towels were being dried; a dark passage and a back

staircase lay beyond it. Stifled laughter from the ante-chamber
added to his confusion.

"This way to the drawing-room, sir," said the servant, with the
exaggerated respect which seemed to be one more jest at his

expense.
Eugene turned so quickly that he stumbled against a bath. By good

luck, he managed to keep his hat on his head, and saved it from
immersion in the water; but just as he turned, a door opened at

the further end of the dark passage, dimly lighted by a small
lamp. Rastignac heard voices and the sound of a kiss; one of the

speakers was Mme. de Restaud, the other was Father Goriot. Eugene
followed the servant through the dining-room into the drawing-

room; he went to a window that looked out into the courtyard, and
stood there for a while. He meant to know whether this Goriot was

really the Goriot that he knew. His heart beat unwontedly fast;
he remembered Vautrin's hideous insinuations. A well-dressed

young man suddenly emerged from the room almost as Eugene entered
it, sayingimpatiently to the servant who stood at the door: "I

am going, Maurice. Tell Madame la Comtesse that I waited more
than half an hour for her."

Whereupon this insolent being, who, doubtless, had a right to be
insolent, sang an Italian trill, and went towards the window

where Eugene was standing, moved thereto quite as much by a
desire to see the student's face as by a wish to look out into

the courtyard.
"But M. le Comte had better wait a moment longer; madame is

disengaged," said Maurice, as he returned to the ante-chamber.
Just at that moment Father Goriot appeared close to the gate; he

had emerged from a door at the foot of the back staircase. The
worthy soul was preparing to open his umbrellaregardless of the

fact that the great gate had opened to admit a tilbury, in which
a young man with a ribbon at his button-hole was seated. Father

Goriot had scarcely time to start back and save himself. The
horse took fright at the umbrella, swerved, and dashed forward

towards the flight of steps. The young man looked round in
annoyance, saw Father Goriot, and greeted him as he went out with

constrained courtesy, such as people usually show to a money-
lender so long as they require his services, or the sort of

respect they feel it necessary to show for some one whose
reputation has been blown upon, so that they blush to acknowledge

his acquaintance. Father Goriot gave him a little friendly nod
and a good-natured smile. All this happened with lightning speed.

Eugene was so deeply interested that he forgot that he was not
alone till he suddenly heard the Countess' voice.

"Oh! Maxime, were you going away?" she said reproachfully, with a
shade of pique in her manner. The Countess had not seen the

incident nor the entrance of the tilbury. Rastignac turned
abruptly and saw her standing before him, coquettishly dressed in

a loose white cashmere gown with knots of rose-colored ribbon
here and there; her hair was carelessly coiled about her head, as

is the wont of Parisian women in the morning; there was a soft
fragrance about her--doubtless she was fresh from a bath;--her

graceful form seemed more flexible, her beauty more luxuriant.
Her eyes glistened. A young man can see everything at a glance;

he feels the radiant influence of woman as a plant discerns and
absorbs its nutriment from the air; he did not need to touch her