home!" indicating, as she spoke, the little
chandelier, the paneled wainscot, and the furniture, which once had
dazzled Lucien.

"I wish least of all to remember it, dear," Madame la Prefete answered
graciously, looking round on the assemblage.

Every one admitted that Louise de Negrepelisse was not like the same
woman. If the provincial had undergone a change, the woman herself had
been transformed by those eighteen months in Paris, by the first
happiness of a still recent second marriage, and the kind of dignity
that power confers. The Comtesse du Chatelet bore the same resemblance
to Mme. de Bargeton that a girl of twenty bears to her mother.

She wore a charming cap of lace and flowers, fastened by a
diamond-headed pin; the ringlets that half hid the contours of her face
added to her look of youth, and suited her style of beauty. Her foulard
gown, designed by the celebrated Victorine, with a pointed bodice,
exquisitely fringed, set off her figure to advantage; and a silken
lace scarf, adroitly thrown about a too long neck, partly concealed
her shoulders. She played with the dainty scent-bottle, hung by a
chain from her bracelet; she carried her fan and her handkerchief with
ease--pretty trifles, as dangerous as a sunken reef for the provincial
dame. The refined taste shown in the least details, the carriage and
manner modeled upon Mme. d'Espard, revealed a profound study of the
Faubourg Saint-Germain.

As for the elderly beau of the Empire, he seemed since his marriage to
have followed the example of the species of melon that turns from
green to yellow in a night. All the youth that Sixte had lost seemed
to appear in his wife's radiant countenance; provincial pleasantries
passed from ear to ear, circulating the more readily because the women
were furious at the new superiority of the sometime queen of
Angouleme; and the persistent intruder paid the penalty of his wife's
offence.

The rooms were almost as full as on that memorable evening of Lucien's
readings from Chenier. Some faces were missing: M. de Chandour and
Amelie, M. de Pimental and the Rastignacs--and M. de Bargeton was no
longer there; but the Bishop came, as before, with his vicars-general
in his train. Petit-Claud was much impressed by the sight of the great
world of Angouleme. Four months ago he had no hope of entering the
circle, to-day he felt his detestation of "the classes" sensibly
diminished. He thought the Comtesse du Chatelet a most fasci