red thousand francs were carried to the
credit of the Baroness' account with the firm of Nucingen (she was her
husband's creditor for twelve hundred thousand francs under her marriage
settlement), and when in any difficulty the Shepherdess of the Alps
dipped into her capital as though it were inexhaustible.

"When our pigeon first advanced towards his dove, Nucingen, knowing
the Baroness' character, must have spoken plainly to Malvina on the
financial position. At that time three hundred thousand francs were
left; the income of twenty-four thousand francs was reduced to eighteen
thousand. Wirth had kept up this state of things for three years! After
that confidential interview, Malvina put down the carriage, sold the
horses, and dismissed the coachman, without her mother's knowledge. The
furniture, now ten years old, could not be renewed, but it all faded
together, and for those that like harmony the effect was not half bad.
The Baroness herself, that so well-preserved flower, began to look
like the last solitary frost-touched rose on a November bush. I myself
watched the slow decline of luxury by half-tones and semi-tones!
Frightful, upon my honor! It was my last trouble of the kind; afterwards
I said to myself, 'It is silly to care so much about other people.'
But while I was in civil service, I was fool enough to take a personal
interest in the houses where I dined; I used to stand up for them; I
would say no ill of them myself; I--oh! I was a child.

"Well, when the ci-devant pearl's daughter put the state of the case
before her, 'Oh my poor children,' cried she, 'who will make my dresses
now? I cannot afford new bonnets; I cannot see visitors here nor go
out.'--Now by what token do you know that a man is in love?" said
Bixiou, interrupting himself. "The question is, whether Beaudenord was
genuinely in love with the fair-haired girl."

"He neglects his interests," said Couture.

"He changes his shirt three times a day," opined Blondet; "a man of more
than ordinary ability, can he, and ought he, to fall in love?"

"My friends," resumed Bixiou, with a sentimental air, "there is a kind
of man who, when he feels that he is in peril of falling in love, will
snap his fingers or fling away his cigar (as the case may be) with a
'Pooh! there are other women in the world.' Beware of that man for
a dangerous reptile. Still, the Government may employ that citizen
somewhere in the Foreign Office. Blondet, I call your attenti