ake allowances; but let her have ever so small
a spice of vanity herself, and she cannot forgive childishness, or
littleness, or vanity in her lover. Many a woman is so extravagant a
worshiper that she must always see the god in her idol; but there are
yet others who love a man for his sake and not for their own, and adore
his failings with his greater qualities.

Lucien had not guessed as yet that Mme. de Bargeton's love was grafted
on pride. He made another mistake when he failed to discern the meaning
of certain smiles which flitted over Louise's lips from time to
time; and instead of keeping himself to himself, he indulged in the
playfulness of the young rat emerging from his hole for the first time.

The travelers were set down before daybreak at the sign of the
Gaillard-Bois in the Rue de l'Echelle, both so tired out with the
journey that Louise went straight to bed and slept, first bidding Lucien
to engage the room immediately overhead. Lucien slept on till four
o'clock in the afternoon, when he was awakened by Mme. de Bargeton's
servant, and learning the hour, made a hasty toilet and hurried
downstairs.

Louise was sitting in the shabby inn sitting-room. Hotel accommodation
is a blot on the civilization of Paris; for with all its pretensions to
elegance, the city as yet does not boast a single inn where a well-to-do
traveler can find the surroundings to which he is accustomed at home.
To Lucien's just-awakened, sleep-dimmed eyes, Louise was hardly
recognizable in this cheerless, sunless room, with the shabby
window-curtains, the comfortless polished floor, the hideous furniture
bought second-hand, or much the worse for wear.

Some people no longer look the same when detached from the background
of faces, objects, and surroundings which serve as a setting, without
which, indeed, they seem to lose something of their intrinsic worth.
Personality demands its appropriate atmosphere to bring out its values,
just as the figures in Flemish interiors need the arrangement of light
and shade in which they are placed by the painter's genius if they
are to live for us. This is especially true of provincials. Mme. de
Bargeton, moreover, looked more thoughtful and dignified than was
necessary now, when no barriers stood between her and happiness.

Gentil and Albertine waited upon them, and while they were present
Lucien could not complain. The dinner, sent in from a neighboring
restaurant, fell far below the provincial av