XXV A PRINCE OF BOHEMIA

The next day, when Maxime de Trailles rose, Finot (whom he had

summoned the night before) was announced. Maxime requested his visitor

to arrange, as if by accident, a breakfast at the cafe Anglais, where

Finot, Couture, and Lousteau should gossip beside him. Finot, whose

position toward the Comte de Trailles was that of a sub-lieutenant

before a marshall of France, could refuse him nothing; it was

altogether too dangerous to annoy that lion. Consequently, when Maxime

came to the breakfast, he found Finot and his two friends at table and

the conversation already started on Madame Schontz, about whom

Couture, well manoeuvred by Finot and Lousteau (Lousteau being, though

not aware of it, Finot's tool), revealed to the Comte de Trailles all

that he wanted to know about her.

About one o'clock, Maxime was chewing a toothpick and talking with du

Tillet on Tortoni's portico, where speculation held a little Bourse, a

sort of prelude to the great one. He seemed to be engaged in business,

but he was really awaiting the Comte de la Palferine, who, within a

given time, was certain to pass that way. The boulevard des Italiens

is to-day what the Pont Neuf was in 1650; all persons known to fame

pass along it once, at least, in the course of the day. Accordingly,

at the end of about ten minutes, Maxime dropped du Tillet's arm, and

nodding to the young Prince of Bohemia said, smiling:

"One word with you, count."

The two rivals in their own principality, the one orb on its decline,

the other like the rising sun, sat down upon four chairs before the

Cafe de Paris. Maxime took care to place a certain distance between

himself and some old fellows who habitually sunned themselves like

wall-fruit at that hour in the afternoon, to dry out their rheumatic

affections. He had excellent reasons for distrusting old men.

"Have you debts?" said Maxime, to the young count.

"If I had none, should I be worthy of being your successor?" replied

La Palferine.

"In putting that question to you I don't place the matter in doubt; I

only want to know if the total is reasonable; if it goes to the five

or the six?"

"Six what?"

"Figures; whether you owe fifty or one hundred thousand? I have owed,

myself, as much as six hundred thousand."

La Palferine raised his hat with an air as respectful as it was

humorous.

"If I had sufficient credit to borrow a hundred thousand francs," he

replied, "I should forget my creditors and go and pass my life in

Venice, amid masterpieces of painting and pretty women and"

"And at my age what would you be?" asked Maxime.

"I should never reach it," replied the young count.

Maxime returned the civility of his rival, and touched his hat lightly

with an air of laughable gravity.

"That's one way of looking at life," he replied in the tone of one

connoisseur to another. "You owe?"

"Oh! a mere trifle, unworthy of being confessed to an uncle; he would

disinherit me for such a paltry sum,six thousand."

"One is often more hampered by six thousand than by a hundred

thousand," said Maxime, sententiously. "La Palferine, you've a bold

spirit, and you have even more spirit than boldness; you can go far,

and make yourself a position. Let me tell you that of all those who

have rushed into the career at the close of which I now am, and who

have tried to oppose me, you are the only one who has ever pleased

me."

La Palferine colored, so flattered was he by this avowal made with

gracious good-humor by the leader of Parisian adventurers. This action

of his own vanity was however a recognition of inferiority which

wounded him; but Maxime divined that unpleasant reaction, easy to

foresee in so clever a mind, and he applied a balm instantly by

putting himself at the discretion of the young man.

"Will you do something for me that will facilitate my retreat from the

Olympic circus by a fine marriage? I will do as much for you."

"You make me very proud; it realizes the fable of the Rat and the

Lion," said La Palferine.

"I shall begin by lending you twenty thousand francs," continued

Maxime.

"Twenty thousand francs! I knew very well that by dint of walking up

and down this boulevard" said La Palferine, in the style of a

parenthesis.

"My dear fellow, you must put yourself on a certain footing," said

Maxime, laughing. "Don't go on your own two feet, have six; do as I

do, I never get out of my tilbury."

"But you must be going to ask me for something beyond my powers."

"No, it is only to make a woman love you within a fortnight."

"Is it a lorette?"

"Why?"

"Because that's impossible; but if it concerns a woman, and a well-

bred one who is also clever"

"She is a very illustrious marquise."

"You want her letters?" said the young count.

"Ah! you are after my own heart!" cried Maxime. "No, that's not it."

"Then you want me to love her?"

"Yes, in the real sense"

"If I am to abandon the aesthetic, it is utterly impossible," said La

Palferine. "I have, don't you see, as to women a certain honor; we may

play the fool with them, but not"

"Ah! I was not mistaken!" cried Maxime. "Do you think I'm a man to

propose mere twopenny infamies to you? No, you must go, and dazzle,

and conquer. My good mate, I give you twenty thousand francs, and ten

days in which to triumph. Meet me to-night at Madame Schontz'."

"I dine there."

"Very good," returned Maxime. "Later, when you have need of me,

Monsieur le comte, you will find me," he added in the tone of a king

who binds himself, but promises nothing.

"This poor woman must have done you some deadly harm," said La

Palferine.

"Don't try to throw a plummet-line into my waters, my boy; and let me

tell you that in case of success you will obtain such powerful

influence that you will be able, like me, to retire upon a fine

marriage when you are bored with your bohemian life."

"Comes there a time when it is a bore to amuse one's self," said La

Palferine, "to be nothing, to live like the birds, to hunt the fields

of Paris like a savage, and laugh at everything?"

"All things weary, even hell," said de Trailles, laughing. "Well, this

evening."

The two /roues/, the old and the young, rose. As Maxime got into his

one-horse equipage, he thought to himself: "Madame d'Espard can't

endure Beatrix; she will help me. Hotel de Grandlieu," he called out

to the coachman, observing that Rastignac was just passing him.

Find a great man without some weakness!

The duchess, Madame du Guenic, and Clotilde were evidently weeping.

"What is the matter?" he asked the duchess.

"Calyste did not come home; this is the first time; my poor daughter

is in despair."

"Madame la duchesse," said Maxime, drawing the pious lady into the

embrasure of a window, "for Heaven's sake keep the utmost secrecy as

to my efforts, and ask d'Ajuda to do the same; for if Calyste ever

hears of our plot there will be a duel between him and me to the

death. When I told you that the affair would not cost much, I meant

that you would not be obliged to spend enormous sums; but I do want

twenty thousand francs; the rest is my affair; there may be important

places to be given, a receiver-generalship possibly."

The duchess and Maxime left the room. When Madame de Grandlieu

returned to her daughter, she again listened to Sabine's dithyrambics

inlaid with family facts even more cruel than those which had already

crushed the young wife's happiness.

"Don't be so troubled, my darling," said the duchess. "Beatrix will

pay dear for your tears and sufferings; the hand of Satan is upon her;

she will meet with ten humiliations for every one she has inflicted

upon you."

Madame Schontz had invited Claude Vignon, who, on several occasions,

had expressed a wish to know Maxime de Trailles personally. She also

invited Couture, Fabien, Bixiou, Leon de Lora, La Palferine, and

Nathan. The latter was asked by Rochefide on account of Maxime.

Aurelie thus expected nine guests, all men of the first ability, with

the exception of du Ronceret; but the Norman vanity and the brutal

ambition of the Heir were fully on a par with Claude Vignon's literary

power, Nathan's poetic gift, La Palferine's /finesse/, Couture's

financial eye, Bixiou's wit, Finot's shrewdness, Maxime's profound

diplomacy, and Leon de Lora's genius.

Madame Schontz, anxious to appear both young and beautiful, armed

herself with a toilet which that sort of woman has the art of making.

She wore a guipure pelerine of spidery texture, a gown of blue velvet,

the graceful corsage of which was buttoned with opals, and her hair in

bands as smooth and shining as ebony. Madame Schontz owed her

celebrity as a pretty woman to the brilliancy and freshness of a

complexion as white and warm as that of Creoles, to a face full of

spirited details, the features of which were clearly and firmly drawn,

a type long presented in perennial youth by the Comtesse Merlin, and

which is perhaps peculiar to Southern races. Unhappily, little Madame

Schontz had tended towards ebonpoint ever since her life had become so

happy and calm. Her neck, of exquisite roundness, was beginning to

take on flesh about the shoulders; but in France the heads of women

are principally treasured; so that fine heads will often keep an ill-

formed body unobserved.

"My dear child," said Maxime, coming in and kissing Madame Schontz on

the forehead, "Rochefide wanted me to see your establishment; why, it

is almost in keeping with his four hundred thousand francs a year.

Well, well, he would never have had them if he hadn't known you. In

less than five years you have made him save what othersAntonia,

Malaga, Cadine, or Florentinewould have made him lose."

"I am not a lorette, I am an artist," said Madame Schontz, with a sort

of dignity, "I hope to end, as they say on the stage, as the

progenitrix of honest men."

"It is dreadful, but we are all marrying," returned Maxime, throwing

himself into an armchair beside the fire. "Here am I, on the point of

making a Comtesse Maxime."

"Oh, how I should like to see her!" exclaimed Madame Schontz. "But

permit me to present to you Monsieur Claude VignonMonsieur Claude

Vignon, Monsieur de Trailles."

"Ah, so you are the man who allowed Camille Maupin, the innkeeper of

literature, to go into a convent?" cried Maxime. "After you, God. I

never received such an honor. Mademoiselle des Touches treated you,

monsieur, as though you were Louis XIV."

"That is how history is written!" replied Claude Vignon. "Don't you

know that her fortune was used to free the Baron du Guenic's estates?

Ah! if she only knew that Calyste now belongs to her ex-friend,"

(Maxime pushed the critic's foot, motioning to Rochefide), "she would

issue from her convent, I do believe, to tear him from her."

"Upon my word, Rochefide, if I were you," said Maxime, finding that

his warning did not stop Vignon, "I should give back my wife's

fortune, so that the world couldn't say she attached herself to

Calyste from necessity."

"Maxime is right," remarked Madame Schontz, looking at Arthur, who

colored high. "If I have helped you to gain several thousand francs a

year, you couldn't better employ them. I shall have made the happiness

of husband /and/ wife; what a feather in my cap!"

"I never thought of it," replied the marquis; "but a man should be a

gentleman before he's a husband."

"Let me tell you when is the time to be generous," said Maxime.

"Arthur," said Aurelie, "Maxime is right. Don't you see, old fellow,

that generous actions are like Couture's investments?you should make

them in the nick of time."

At that moment Couture, followed by Finot, came in; and, soon after,

all the guests were assembled in the beautiful blue and gold salon of

the hotel Schontz, a title which the various artists had given to

their inn after Rochefide purchased it for his Ninon II. When Maxime

saw La Palferine, the last to arrive, enter, he walked up to his

lieutenant, and taking him aside into the recess of a window, gave him

notes for twenty thousand francs.

"Remember, my boy, you needn't economize them," he said, with the

particular grace of a true scamp.

"There's none but you who can double the value of what you seem to

give," replied La Palferine.

"Have you decided?"

"Surely, inasmuch as I take the money," said the count, with a mixture

of haughtiness and jest.

"Well, then, Nathan, who is here to-night, will present you two days

hence at the house of Madame la Marquise de Rochefide."

La Palferine started when he heard the name.

"You are to be madly in love with her, and, not to rouse suspicion,

drink heavily, wines, liqueurs! I'll tell Aurelie to place you beside

Nathan at dinner. One thing more, my boy: you and I must meet every

night, on the boulevard de la Madeleine at one in the morning,you to

give me an account of progress, I to give you instructions."

"I shall be there, my master," said the young count, bowing.

"Why do you make us dine with that queer fellow dressed like the head-

waiter of a restaurant?" whispered Maxime to Madame Schontz, with a

sign toward Fabien du Ronceret.

"Have you never met the Heir? Du Ronceret of Alencon."

"Monsieur," said Maxime to Fabien, "I think you must know my friend

d'Esgrignon?"

"Victurnien has ceased to know me for some time," replied Fabien, "but

we used to be very intimate in our youth."

The dinner was one of those which are given nowhere but in Paris by

these great female spendthrifts, for the choiceness of their

preparations often surprise the most fastidious of guests. It was at

just such a supper, at the house of a courtesan as handsome and rich

as Madame Schontz, that Paganini declared he had never eaten such fare

at the table of any sovereign, nor drunk such wines with any prince,

nor heard such witty conversation, nor seen the glitter of such

coquettish luxury.

Maxime and Madame Schontz were the first to re-enter the salon, about

ten o'clock, leaving the other guests, who had ceased to tell

anecdotes and were now boasting of their various good qualities, with

their viscous lips glued to the glasses which they could not drain.

"Well, my dear," said Maxime, "you are not mistaken; yes, I have come

for your /beaux yeux/ and for help in a great affair. You must leave

Arthur; but I pledge myself to make him give you two hundred thousand

francs."

"Why should I leave the poor fellow?"

"To marry that idiot, who seems to have been sent from Alencon

expressly for the purpose. He has been a judge, and I'll have him made

chief-justice in place of Emile Blondet's father, who is getting to be

eighty years old. Now, if you know how to sail your boat, your husband

can be elected deputy. You will both be personages, and you can then

look down on Madame la Comtesse du Bruel."

"Never!" said Madame Schontz; "she's a countess."

"Hasn't he condition enough to be made a count?"

"By the bye, he bears arms," cried Aurelie, hunting for a letter in an

elegant bag hanging at the corner of the fireplace, and giving it to

Maxime. "What do they mean? Here are combs."

"He bears: per fesse argent and azure; on the first, three combs

gules, two and one, crossed by three bunches grapes purpure, leaved

vert, one and two; on the second, four feathers or, placed fretwise,

with /Servir/ for motto, and a squire's helmet. It is not much; it

seems they were ennobled under Louis XIV.; some mercer was doubtless

their grandfather, and the maternal line must have made its money in

wines; the du Ronceret whom the king ennobled was probably an usher.

But if you get rid of Arthur and marry du Ronceret, I promise you he

shall be a baron at the very least. But you see, my dear, you'll have

to soak yourself for five or six years in the provinces if you want to

bury La Schontz in a baroness. That queer creature has been casting

looks at you, the meaning of which is perfectly clear. You've got

him."

"No," replied Aurelie, "when my hand was offered to him he remained,

like the brandies I read of to-day in the market reports, /dull/."

"I will undertake to decide himif he is drunk. Go and see where they

all are."

"It is not worth while to go; I hear no one but Bixiou, who is making

jokes to which nobody listens. But I know my Arthur; he feels bound to

be polite, and he is probably looking at Bixiou with his eyes shut."

"Let us go back, then."

"/Ah ca!/" said Madame Schontz, suddenly stopping short, "in whose

interest shall I be working?"

"In that of Madame de Rochefide," replied Maxime, promptly. "It is

impossible to reconcile her with Rochefide as long as you hold him.

Her object is to recover her place as head of his household and the

enjoyment of four hundred thousand francs a year."

"And she offers me only two hundred thousand! I want three hundred

thousand, since the affair concerns her. What! haven't I taken care of

her brat and her husband? I have filled her place in every wayand

does she think to bargain with me? With that, my dear Maxime, I shall

have a million; and if you'll promise me the chief-justiceship at

Alencon, I can hold my own as Madame du Ronceret."

"That's settled," said Maxime.

"Oh! won't it be dull to live in that little town!" cried Aurelie,

philosophically. "I have heard so much of that province from

d'Esgrignon and the Val-Noble that I seem to have lived there

already."

"Suppose I promise you the support of the nobility?"

"Ah! Maxime, you don't mean that?but the pigeon won't fly."

"And he is very ugly with his purple skin and bristles for whiskers;

he looks like a wild boar with the eyes of a bird of prey. But he'll

make the finest chief-justice of a provincial court. Now don't be

uneasy! in ten minutes he shall be singing to you Isabelle's air in

the fourth act of Robert le Diable: 'At thy feet I kneel'you

promise, don't you? to send Arthur back to Beatrix?"

"It will be difficult; but perseverance wins."

About half-past ten o'clock the guests returned to the salon for

coffee. Under the circumstances in which Madame Schontz, Couture, and

du Ronceret were placed, it is easy to imagine the effect produced

upon the Heir by the following conversation which Maxime held with

Couture in a corner and in a low voice, but so placed that Fabien

could listen to them.

"My dear Couture, if you want to lead a steady life you had better

accept a receiver-generalship which Madame de Rochefide will obtain

for you. Aurelie's million will furnish the security, and you'll share

the property in marrying her. You can be made deputy, if you know how

to trim your sails; and the premium I want for thus saving you is your

vote in the chamber."

"I shall always be proud to be a follower of yours."

"Ah! my dear fellow, you have had quite an escape. Just imagine!

Aurelie took a fancy for that Norman from Alencon; she asked to have

him made a baron, and chief-justice in his native town, and officer of

the Legion of honor! The fool never guessed her value, and you will

owe your fortune to her disappointment. You had better not leave that

clever creature time for reflection. As for me, I am already putting

the irons in the fire."

And Maxime left Couture at the summit of happiness, saying to La

Palferine, "Shall I drive you home, my boy?"

By eleven o'clock Aurelie was alone with Couture, Fabien, and

Rochefide. Arthur was asleep on a sofa. Couture and Fabien each tried

to outstay the other, without success; and Madame Schontz finally

terminated the struggle by saying to Couture,

"Good-night, I shall see you to-morrow."

A dismissal which he took in good part.

"Mademoiselle," said Fabien, in a low voice, "because you saw me

thoughtful at the offer which you indirectly made to me, do not think

there was the slightest hesitation on my part. But you do not know my

mother; she would never consent to my happiness."

"You have reached an age for respectful summons," retorted Aurelie,

insolently. "But if you are afraid of mamma you won't do for me."

"Josephine!" said the Heir, tenderly, passing his arm audaciously

round Madame Schontz' waist, "I thought you loved me!"

"Well?"

"Perhaps I could appease my mother, and obtain her consent."

"How?"

"If you would employ your influence"

"To have you made baron, officer of the Legion of honor, and chief-

justice at Alencon,is that it, my friend? Listen to me: I have done

so many things in my life that I am capable of virtue. I can be an

honest woman and a loyal wife; and I can push my husband very high.

But I wish to be loved by him without one look or one thought being

turned away from me. Does that suit you? Don't bind yourself

imprudently; it concerns your whole life, my little man."

"With a woman like you I can do it blind," cried Fabien, intoxicated

by the glance she gave him as much as by the liqueurs des Iles.

"You shall never repent that word, my dear; you shall be peer of

France. As for that poor old fellow," she continued, looking at

Rochefide, who was sound asleep, "after to-day I have d-o-n-e with

him."

Fabien caught Madame Schontz around the waist and kissed her with an

impulse of fury and joy, in which the double intoxication of wine and

love was secondary to ambition.

"Remember, my dear child," she said, "the respect you ought to show to

your wife; don't play the lover; leave me free to retire from my mud-

hole in a proper manner. Poor Couture, who thought himself sure of

wealth and a receiver-generalship!"

"I have a horror of that man," said Fabien; "I wish I might never see

him again."

"I will not receive him any more," replied Madame Schontz, with a

prudish little air. "Now that we have come to an understanding, my

Fabien, you must go; it is one o'clock."

This little scene gave birth in the household of Arthur and Aurelie

(so completely happy until now) to a phase of domestic warfare

produced in the bosom of all homes by some secret and alien interest

in one of the partners. The next day when Arthur awoke he found Madame

Schontz as frigid as that class of woman knows how to make herself.

"What happened last night?" he said, as he breakfasted, looking at

Aurelie.

"What often happens in Paris," she replied, "one goes to bed in damp

weather and the next morning the pavements are dry and frozen so hard

that they are dusty. Do you want a brush?"

"What's the matter with you, dearest?"

"Go and find your great scarecrow of a wife!"

"My wife!" exclaimed the poor marquis.

"Don't I know why you brought Maxime here? You mean to make up with

Madame de Rochefide, who wants you perhaps for some indiscreet brat.

And I, whom you call so clever, I advised you to give back her

fortune! Oh! I see your scheme. At the end of five years Monsieur is

tired of me. I'm getting fat, Beatrix is all bonesit will be a

change for you! You are not the first I've known to like skeletons.

Your Beatrix knows how to dress herself, that's true; and you are man

who likes figure-heads. Besides, you want to send Monsieur du Guenic

to the right-about. It will be a triumph! You'll cut quite an

appearance in the world! How people will talk of it! Why! you'll be a

hero!"

Madame Schontz did not make an end of her sarcasms for two hours after

mid-day, in spite of Arthur's protestations. She then said she was

invited out to dinner, and advised her "faithless one" to go without

her to the Opera, for she herself was going to the Ambigu-Comique to

meet Madame de la Baudraye, a charming woman, a friend of Lousteau.

Arthur proposed, as proof of his eternal attachment to his little

Aurelie and his detestation of his wife, to start the next day for

Italy, and live as a married couple in Rome, Naples, Florence,in

short, wherever she liked, offering her a gift of sixty thousand

francs.

"All that is nonsense," she said. "It won't prevent you from making up

with your wife, and you'll do a wise thing."

Arthur and Aurelie parted on this formidable dialogue, he to play

cards and dine at the club, she to dress and spend the evening /tete-

a-tete/ with Fabien.

Monsieur de Rochefide found Maxime at the club, and complained to him

like a man who feels that his happiness is being torn from his heart

by the roots, every fibre of which clung to it. Maxime listened to his

moans, as persons of social politeness are accustomed to listen, while

thinking of other things.

"I'm a man of good counsel in such matters, my dear fellow," he

answered. "Well, let me tell you, you are on the wrong road in letting

Aurelie see how dear she is to you. Allow me to present you to Madame

Antonia. There's a heart to let. You'll soon see La Schontz with other

eyes. She is thirty-seven years old, that Schontz of yours, and Madame

Antonia is only twenty-six! And what a woman! I may say she is my

pupil. If Madame Schontz persists in keeping on the hind heels of her

pride, don't you know what that means?"

"Faith, no!"

"That she wants to marry, and if that's the case, nothing can hinder

her from leaving you. After a lease of six years a woman has a right

to do so. Now, if you will only listen to me, you can do a better

thing for yourself. Your wife is to-day worth more than all the

Schontzes and Antonias of the quartier Saint-Georges. I admit the

conquest is difficult, but it is not impossible; and after all that

has happened she will make you as happy as an Orgon. In any case, you

mustn't look like a fool; come and sup to-night with Antonia."

"No, I love Aurelie too well; I won't give her any reason to complain

of me."

"Ah! my dear fellow, what a future you are preparing for yourself!"

cried Maxime.

"It is eleven o'clock; she must have returned from the Ambigu," said

Rochefide, leaving the club.

And he called out his coachman to drive at top speed to the rue de la

Bruyere.

Madame Schontz had given precise directions; monsieur could enter as

master with the fullest understanding of madame; but, warned by the

noise of monsieur's arrival, madame had so arranged that the sound of

her dressing-door closing as women's doors do close when they are

surprised, was to reach monsieur's ears. Then, at a corner of the

piano, Fabien's hat, forgotten intentionally, was removed very

awkwardly by a maid the moment after monsieur had entered the room.

"Did you go to the Ambigu, my little girl?"

"No, I changed my mind, and stayed at home to play music."

"Who came to see you?" asked the marquis, good-humoredly, seeing the

hat carried off by the maid.

"No one."

At that audacious falsehood Arthur bowed his head; he passed beneath

the Caudine forks of submission. A real love descends at times to

these sublime meannesses. Arthur behaved with Madame Schontz as Sabine

with Calyste, and Calyste with Beatrix.

Within a week the transition from larva to butterfly took place in the

young, handsome, and clever Charles-Edouard, Comte Rusticoli de la

Palferine. Until this moment of his life he had lived miserably,

covering his deficits with an audacity equal to that of Danton. But he

now paid his debts; he now, by advice of Maxime, had a little

carriage; he was admitted to the Jockey Club and to the club of the

rue de Gramont; he became supremely elegant, and he published in the

"Journal des Debats" a novelette which won him in a few days a

reputation which authors by profession obtain after years of toil and

successes only; for there is nothing so usurping in Paris as that

which ought to be ephemeral. Nathan, very certain that the count would

never publish anything else, lauded the graceful and presuming young

man so highly to Beatrix that she, spurred by the praise of the poet,

expressed a strong desire to see this king of the vagabonds of good

society.

"He will be all the more delighted to come here," replied Nathan,

"because, as I happen to know, he has fallen in love with you to the

point of committing all sorts of follies."

"But I am told he has already committed them."

"No, not all; he has not yet committed that of falling in love with a

virtuous woman."

Some ten days after the scheme plotted on the boulevard between Maxime

and his henchman, the seductive Charles-Edouard, the latter, to whom

Nature had given, no doubt sarcastically, a face of charming

melancholy, made his first irruption into the nest of the dove of the

rue de Chartres, who took for his reception an evening when Calyste

was obliged to go to a party with his wife.

If you should ever meet La Palferine you will understand perfectly the

success obtained in a single evening by that sparkling mind, that

animated fancy, especially if you take into consideration the

admirable adroitness of the showman who consented to superintend this

debut. Nathan was a good comrade, and he made the young count shine,

as a jeweller showing off an ornament in hopes to sell it, makes the

diamonds glitter. La Palferine was, discreetly, the first to withdraw;

he left Nathan and the marquise together, relying on the collaboration

of the celebrated author, which was admirable. Seeing that Beatrix was

quite astounded, Raoul put fire into her heart by pretended reticences

which stirred the fibres of a curiosity she did not know she

possessed. Nathan hinted that La Palferine's wit was not so much the

cause of his success with women as his superiority in the art of love;

a statement which magnified the count immensely.

This is the place to record a new effect of that great law of

contraries, which produces so many crises in the human heart and

accounts for such varied eccentricities that we are forced to remember

it sometimes as well as its counterpart, the law of similitudes. All

courtesans preserve in the depths of their heart a perennial desire to

recover their liberty; to this they would sacrifice everything. They

feel this antithetical need with such intensity that it is rare to

meet with one of these women who has not aspired several times to a

return to virtue through love. They are not discouraged by the most

cruel deceptions. On the other hand, women restrained by their

education, by the station they occupy, chained by the rank of their

families, living in the midst of opulence, and wearing a halo of

virtue, are drawn at times, secretly be it understood, toward the

tropical regions of love. These two natures of woman, so opposed to

each other, have at the bottom of their hearts, the one that faint

desire for virtue, the other that faint desire for libertinism which

Jean-Jacques Rousseau was the first to have the courage to diagnose.

In one, it is a last reflexion of the ray divine that is not extinct;

in the other, it is the last remains of our primitive clay.

This claw of the beast was rapped, this hair of the devil was pulled

by Nathan with extreme cleverness. The marquise began to ask herself

seriously if, up to the present time, she had not been the dupe of her

head, and whether her education was complete. Vicewhat is it?

Possibly only the desire to know everything.