racious companion in her
ear, "and go home."

The countess looked at her husband to ask for his arm with one of those
glances which husbands do not always understand. Felix did so, and took
her home.

"My dear friend," said Madame d'Espard in Raoul's ear, "you are a lucky
fellow. You have made more than one conquest to-night, and among them
that of the charming woman who has just left us so abruptly."

"Do you know what the Marquise d'Espard meant by that?" said Raoul to
Rastignac, when they happened to be comparatively alone between one and
two o'clock in the morning.

"I am told that the Comtesse de Vandenesse has taken a violent fancy to
you. You are not to be pitied!" said Rastignac.

"I did not see her," said Raoul.

"Oh! but you will see her, you scamp!" cried Emile Blondet, who was
standing by. "Lady Dudley is going to ask you to her grand ball, that
you may meet the pretty countess."

Raoul and Blondet went off with Rastignac, who offered them his
carriage. All three laughed at the combination of an eclectic
under-secretary of State, a ferocious republican, and a political
atheist.

"Suppose we sup at the expense of the present order of things?" said
Blondet, who would fain recall suppers to fashion.

Rastignac took them to Very's, sent away his carriage, and all three
sat down to table to analyze society with Rabelaisian laughs. During
the supper, Rastignac and Blondet advised their provisional enemy not to
neglect such a capital chance of advancement as the one now offered to
him. The two "roues" gave him, in fine satirical style, the history of
Madame Felix de Vandenesse; they drove the scalpel of epigram and the
sharp points of much good wit into that innocent girlhood and happy
marriage. Blondet congratulated Raoul on encountering a woman guilty
of nothing worse so far than horrible drawings in red chalk, attenuated
water-colors, slippers embroidered for a husband, sonatas executed with
the best intentions,--a girl tied to her mother's apron-strings till she
was eighteen, trussed for religious practices, seasoned by Vandenesse,
and cooked to a point by marriage. At the third bottle of champagne,
Raoul unbosomed himself as he had never done before in his life.

"My friends," he said, "you know my relations with Florine; you also
know my life, and you will not be surprised to hear me say that I am
absolutely ignorant of what a countess's love may be like. I have often
felt mortified that I, a poe