o a
particular seat, and showed discrimination in his selection. On the very
first day he had noticed a table near the counter, and from the faces of
those who sat about it, and chance snatches of their talk, he recognized
brothers of the craft. A sort of instinct, moreover, pointed out the
table near the counter as a spot whence he could parlay with the owners
of the restaurant. In time an acquaintance would grow up, he thought,
and then in the day of distress he could no doubt obtain the necessary
credit. So he took his place at a small square table close to the desk,
intended probably for casual comers, for the two clean serviettes were
unadorned with rings. Lucien's opposite neighbor was a thin, pallid
youth, to all appearance as poor as himself; his handsome face was
somewhat worn, already it told of hopes that had vanished, leaving lines
upon his forehead and barren furrows in his soul, where seeds had been
sown that had come to nothing. Lucien felt drawn to the stranger by
these tokens; his sympathies went out to him with irresistible fervor.

After a week's exchange of small courtesies and remarks, the poet from
Angouleme found the first person with whom he could chat. The stranger's
name was Etienne Lousteau. Two years ago he had left his native place,
a town in Berri, just as Lucien had come from Angouleme. His lively
gestures, bright eyes, and occasionally curt speech revealed a bitter
apprenticeship to literature. Etienne had come from Sancerre with his
tragedy in his pocket, drawn to Paris by the same motives that impelled
Lucien--hope of fame and power and money.

Sometimes Etienne Lousteau came for several days together; but in a
little while his visits became few and far between, and he would stay
away for five or six days in succession. Then he would come back, and
Lucien would hope to see his poet next day, only to find a stranger in
his place. When two young men meet daily, their talk harks back to their
last conversation; but these continual interruptions obliged Lucien to
break the ice afresh each time, and further checked an intimacy which
made little progress during the first few weeks. On inquiry of the
damsel at the counter, Lucien was told that his future friend was on
the staff of a small newspaper, and wrote reviews of books and dramatic
criticism of pieces played at the Ambigu-Comique, the Gaite, and the
Panorama-Dramatique. The young man became a personage all at once in
Lucien's eyes. Now