d Lucien.

"Quite a theatrical meeting!" said Canalis.

Montriveau introduced the Baron du Chatelet to the Marquise, and the
Marquise received Her Royal Highness' ex-secretary the more graciously
because she had seen that he had been very well received in three
boxes already. Mme. de Serizy knew none but unexceptionable people, and
moreover he was Montriveau's traveling companion. So potent was this
last credential, that Mme. de Bargeton saw from the manner of the
group that they accepted Chatelet as one of themselves without demur.
Chatelet's sultan's airs in Angouleme were suddenly explained.

At length the Baron saw Lucien, and favored him with a cool, disparaging
little nod, indicative to men of the world of the recipient's inferior
station. A sardonic expression accompanied the greeting, "How does _he_
come here?" he seemed to say. This was not lost on those who saw it;
for de Marsay leaned towards Montriveau, and said in tones audible to
Chatelet:

"Do ask him who the queer-looking young fellow is that looks like a
dummy at a tailor's shop-door."

Chatelet spoke a few words in his traveling companion's ear, and while
apparently renewing his acquaintance, no doubt cut his rival to pieces.

If Lucien was surprised at the apt wit and the subtlety with which these
gentlemen formulated their replies, he felt bewildered with epigram and
repartee, and, most of all, by their offhand way of talking and their
ease of manner. The material luxury of Paris had alarmed him that
morning; at night he saw the same lavish expenditure of intellect. By
what mysterious means, he asked himself, did these people make such
piquant reflections on the spur of the moment, those repartees which
he could only have made after much pondering? And not only were they at
ease in their speech, they were at ease in their dress, nothing looked
new, nothing looked old, nothing about them was conspicuous, everything
attracted the eyes. The fine gentleman of to-day was the same yesterday,
and would be the same to-morrow. Lucien guessed that he himself looked
as if he were dressed for the first time in his life.

"My dear fellow," said de Marsay, addressing Felix de Vandenesse, "that
young Rastignac is soaring away like a paper-kite. Look at him in the
Marquise de Listomere's box; he is making progress, he is putting up
his eyeglass at us! He knows this gentleman, no doubt," added the dandy,
speaking to Lucien, and looking elsewhere.

"He can sc