of course, be intolerably ridiculous, seems in
him the result of his natural precocity; and this precocity ought to be
forgiven him, inasmuch as it comes to him from God.

In consequence of his unfortunate birth Monsieur Dorlange is less fitted
than most men to judge of children in their homes, and he therefore,
necessarily, shows a want of indulgence. But he had better take care; if
he wishes to pay court to me merely as a friend he has chosen a very bad
method of doing so.

Of course an evening in the midst of the family did not allow of his
returning to the subject of his private history; but I thought he did
not show any particular desire to do so. In fact, he occupied himself
much more with Nais than with me, cutting out silhouettes in black paper
for her during nearly the whole evening. I must also mention that Madame
de Rastignac came in and I, on my side, was obliged to give my company
to her. While we were conversing near the fire, Monsieur Dorlange at
the other end of the room was posing the two children Nais and Rene, who
presently brought me their likenesses snipped out with scissors, Nais
whispering triumphantly in my ear:--

"You don't know; but Monsieur Dorlange is going to make my bust in
marble."

Since this family dinner, civil war has been declared among my children.
Nais extols to the skies her "dear preserver," as she calls him, and is
supported in her opinion by Rene, who is delivered over to the sculptor
body and soul in return for a superb lancer on horseback which Monsieur
Dorlange cut out for him. Armand, on the contrary, thinks him ugly,
which is undeniable; he says he resembles the portraits of Danton which
he has seen in the illustrated histories of the Revolution, in which
remark there is some truth. He says also that Monsieur Dorlange has
given me in my bust the air of a grisette, which is not true at all.
Hence, disputes among my darlings which are endless.

IX. DORLANGE TO MARIE-GASTON

Paris, April, 1839.

Why do I desert my art, and what do I intend to do in this cursed galley
of politics? This shows what it is, my dear romantic friend, to shut
one's self up for years in a conjugal convent. During that time the
world has progressed. To friends forgotten at the gate life brings
new combinations; and the more they are ignored, the more disposed the
forgetter is to cast the blame upon those forgotten; it is so easy to
preach to others!

Learn, then, my dear inquisitor, th