ese
imaginings, like a goddess in the Iliad.

"Ah! my friend!..." said the Vicomtesse; she crossed the room and laid
her hand on Rastignac's shoulder. He saw the tears in his cousin's
uplifted eyes, saw that one hand was raised to take the casket, and that
the fingers of the other trembled. Suddenly she took the casket, put it
in the fire, and watched it burn.

"They are dancing," she said. "They all came very early; but death
will be long in coming. Hush! my friend," and she laid a finger on
Rastignac's lips, seeing that he was about to speak. "I shall never see
Paris again. I am taking my leave of the world. At five o'clock this
morning I shall set out on my journey; I mean to bury myself in the
remotest part of Normandy. I have had very little time to make my
arrangements; since three o'clock this afternoon I have been busy
signing documents, setting my affairs in order; there was no one whom I
could send to..."

She broke off.

"He was sure to be..."

Again she broke off; the weight of her sorrow was more than she could
bear. In such moments as these everything is agony, and some words are
impossible to utter.

"And so I counted upon you to do me this last piece of service
this evening," she said. "I should like to give you some pledge of
friendship. I shall often think of you. You have seemed to me to be kind
and noble, fresh-hearted and true, in this world where such qualities
are seldom found. I should like you to think sometimes of me. Stay," she
said, glancing about her, "there is this box that has held my gloves.
Every time I opened it before going to a ball or to the theatre, I used
to feel that I must be beautiful, because I was so happy; and I never
touched it except to lay some gracious memory in it: there is so much
of my old self in it, of a Madame de Beauseant who now lives no longer.
Will you take it? I will leave directions that it is to be sent to
you in the Rue d'Artois.--Mme. de Nucingen looked very charming this
evening. Eugene, you must love her. Perhaps we may never see each other
again, my friend; but be sure of this, that I shall pray for you who
have been kind to me.--Now, let us go downstairs. People shall not think
that I am weeping. I have all time and eternity before me, and where
I am going I shall be alone, and no one will ask me the reason of my
tears. One last look round first."

She stood for a moment. Then she covered her eyes with her hands for
an instant, dashed away the