A Distinguished Provincial at Paris | Page 5

coming up for the
opening of the session; there is the Commandant in Paris on leave.
Why, the first man or woman from Angouleme who happens to see you
would cut your career short in a strange fashion. You would simply be
Lucien's mistress.
"If you need me at any time, I am staying with the Receiver-General in
the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore, two steps away from Mme.

d'Espard's. I am sufficiently acquainted with the Marechale de
Carigliano, Mme. de Serizy, and the President of the Council to
introduce you to those houses; but you will meet so many people at
Mme. d'Espard's, that you are not likely to require me. So far from
wishing to gain admittance to this set or that, every one will be longing
to make your acquaintance."
Chatelet talked on; Mme. de Bargeton made no interruption. She was
struck with his perspicacity. The queen of Angouleme had, in fact,
counted upon preserving her incognito.
"You are right, my dear friend," she said at length; "but what am I to
do?"
"Allow me to find suitable furnished lodgings for you," suggested
Chatelet; "that way of living is less expensive than an inn. You will
have a home of your own; and, if you will take my advice, you will
sleep in your new rooms this very night."
"But how did you know my address?" queried she.
"Your traveling carriage is easily recognized; and, besides, I was
following you. At Sevres your postilion told mine that he had brought
you here. Will you permit me to act as your harbinger? I will write as
soon as I have found lodgings."
"Very well, do so," said she. And in those seemingly insignificant
words, all was said. The Baron du Chatelet had spoken the language of
worldly wisdom to a woman of the world. He had made his appearance
before her in faultless dress, a neat cab was waiting for him at the door;
and Mme. de Bargeton, standing by the window thinking over the
position, chanced to see the elderly dandy drive away.
A few moments later Lucien appeared, half awake and hastily dressed.
He was handsome, it is true; but his clothes, his last year's nankeen
trousers, and his shabby tight jacket were ridiculous. Put Antinous or
the Apollo Belvedere himself into a water-carrier's blouse, and how
shall you recognize the godlike creature of the Greek or Roman chisel?

The eyes note and compare before the heart has time to revise the swift
involuntary judgment; and the contrast between Lucien and Chatelet
was so abrupt that it could not fail to strike Louise.
Towards six o'clock that evening, when dinner was over, Mme. de
Bargeton beckoned Lucien to sit beside her on the shabby sofa, covered
with a flowered chintz--a yellow pattern on a red ground.
"Lucien mine," she said, "don't you think that if we have both of us
done a foolish thing, suicidal for both our interests, it would only be
common sense to set matters right? We ought not to live together in
Paris, dear boy, and we must not allow anyone to suspect that we
traveled together. Your career depends so much upon my position that I
ought to do nothing to spoil it. So, to-night, I am going to remove into
lodgings near by. But you will stay on here, we can see each other
every day, and nobody can say a word against us."
And Louise explained conventions to Lucien, who opened wide eyes.
He had still to learn that when a woman thinks better of her folly, she
thinks better of her love; but one thing he understood--he saw that he
was no longer the Lucien of Angouleme. Louise talked of herself, of
HER interests, HER reputation, and of the world; and, to veil her
egoism, she tried to make him believe that this was all on his account.
He had no claim upon Louise thus suddenly transformed into Mme. de
Bargeton, and, more serious still, he had no power over her. He could
not keep back the tears that filled his eyes.
"If I am your glory," cried the poet, "you are yet more to me--you are
my one hope, my whole future rests with you. I thought that if you
meant to make my successes yours, you would surely make my
adversity yours also, and here we are going to part already."
"You are judging my conduct," said she; "you do not love me."
Lucien looked at her with such a dolorous expression, that in spite of
herself, she said:
"Darling, I will stay if you like. We shall both be ruined, we shall have

no one to come to our aid. But when we are both equally wretched, and
every one shuts their door upon us both, when failure (for