re there
assembled; but presently recognizing Felicien Vernou and Lousteau, two
noted men of that secondary press, he greeted them heartily and shook
them by the hand.

Before dinner was announced, Comte Halphertius judged it advisable to
make a little speech.

"Dear madame," he said to his aunt, "you are really a fairy godmother.
This is the first time I have ever been in a Parisian salon, and here
you have assembled to meet me all that literature, the arts, and the
legal profession can offer of their best. I, who am only a
northern barbarian,--though our country, too, can boast of its
celebrities,--Linnaeus, Berzelius, Thorwaldsen, Tegner, Franzen, Geier,
and the charming novelist Frederika Bremer,--I find myself a cipher in
such company."

"But in Bernadotte France and Sweden clasped hands," replied Madame de
Saint-Esteve, whose historical erudition went as far as that.

"It is very certain," said Vautrin, "that our beloved sovereign, Charles
XIV.--"

The announcement of dinner by a majordomo, who threw open the double
doors of the salon, put an end to this remark. Jacqueline took Vautrin's
arm, saying in a whisper as they walked along,--

"Have I done things all right?"

"Yes," replied Vautrin, "it is all in good style, except that devil of a
turban of yours, which makes you look like a poll-parrot."

"Why, no," said Jacqueline, "not at all; with my Javanese face" (she was
born on the island of Java), "oriental things set me off."

Madame de Saint-Esteve placed Sir Francis Drake upon her right, and
Desroches on her left; Vautrin sat opposite, flanked on either side by
Emile Blondet, of the "Debats," and the Signoria Luigia; the rest of the
company placed themselves as they pleased. The dinner, on the whole, was
dull; Bixiou, at Madame de Saint-Esteve's request, had warned the party
to risk nothing that might offend the chaste ears of the pious Italian.
Forced to mind their morals, as a celebrated critic once observed, these
men of wit and audacity lost their spirit; and, taking refuge in the
menu, which was excellent, they either talked together in a low voice,
or let the conversation drag itself along in bourgeois commonplaces.
They ate and they drank, but they did not dine. Bixiou, incapable of
bearing this state of things during a whole dinner, determined to
create a reaction. The appearance of this Swedish magnate, evidently on
intimate terms with the Saint-Esteve, puzzled him. He noticed a certain
i