stay at
Mansle; now he begged her to say that she was out of health and to give
her consent in writing. So humiliating was it to be without relations,
protectors, or witnesses to his signature, that Petit-Claud thought
himself in luck that he could bring a presentable friend at the
Countess' request. He called to take up Lucien, and they drove to the
Hotel de Bargeton.

On that memorable evening the poet dressed to outshine every man
present. Mme. de Senonches had spoken of him as the hero of the hour,
and a first interview between two estranged lovers is the kind of scene
that provincials particularly love. Lucien had come to be the lion
of the evening; he was said to be so handsome, so much changed, so
wonderful, that every well-born woman in Angouleme was curious to see
him again. Following the fashion of the transition period between the
eighteenth century small clothes and the vulgar costume of the present
day, he wore tight-fitting black trousers. Men still showed their
figures in those days, to the utter despair of lean, clumsily-made
mortals; and Lucien was an Apollo. The open-work gray silk stockings,
the neat shoes, and the black satin waistcoat were scrupulously drawn
over his person, and seemed to cling to him. His forehead looked the
whiter by contrast with the thick, bright curls that rose above it
with studied grace. The proud eyes were radiant. The hands, small as
a woman's, never showed to better advantage than when gloved. He had
modeled himself upon de Marsay, the famous Parisian dandy, holding
his hat and cane in one hand, and keeping the other free for the very
occasional gestures which illustrated his talk.

Lucien had quite intended to emulate the famous false modesty of those
who bend their heads to pass beneath the Porte Saint-Denis, and to slip
unobserved into the room; but Petit-Claud, having but one friend, made
him useful. He brought Lucien almost pompously through a crowded room
to Mme. de Senonches. The poet heard a murmur as he passed; not so very
long ago that hum of voices would have turned his head, to-day he was
quite different; he did not doubt that he himself was greater than the
whole Olympus put together.

"Madame," he said, addressing Mme. de Senonches, "I have already
congratulated my friend Petit-Claud (a man with the stuff in him of
which Keepers of the Seals are made) on the honor of his approaching
connection with you, slight as are the ties between godmother and
goddaug