wound. The ball gave rise to more than one intrigue in the second
arrondissement. The friends of the family were easy in their minds,
but the demands of mere acquaintances were enormous. Honors bring
sycophants; and there was a goodly number of people whose invitations
cost them more than one application. The Birotteaus were fairly
frightened at the number of friends whom they did not know they had.
These eager attentions alarmed Madame Birotteau, and day by day her face
grew sadder as the great solemnity drew near.

In the first place, as she owned to Cesar, she should never learn the
right demeanor; next, she was terrified by the innumerable details
of such a fete: where should she find the plate, the glass-ware, the
refreshments, the china, the servants? Who would superintend it all? She
entreated Birotteau to stand at the door of the appartement and let no
one enter but invited guests; she had heard strange stories of people
who came to bourgeois balls, claiming friends whose names they did not
know. When, a week before the fateful day, Braschon, Grindot, Lourdois,
and Chaffaroux, the builder, assured Cesar positively that the rooms
would be ready for the famous Sunday of December the 17th, an amusing
conference took place, in the evening after dinner, between Cesar, his
wife, and his daughter, for the purpose of making out the list of guests
and addressing the invitations,--which a stationer had sent home that
morning, printed on pink paper, in flowing English writing, and in the
formula of commonplace and puerile civility.

"Now we mustn't forget any body," said Birotteau.

"If we forget any one," said Constance, "they won't forget it. Madame
Derville, who never called before, sailed down upon me in all her glory
yesterday."

"She is very pretty," said Cesarine. "I liked her."

"And yet before her marriage she was even less than I was," said
Constance. "She did plain sewing in the Rue Montmartre; she made shirts
for your father."

"Well, now let us begin the list," said Birotteau, "with the upper-crust
people. Cesarine, write down Monsieur le Duc and Madame la Duchesse de
Lenoncourt--"

"Good heavens, Cesar!" said Constance, "don't send a single invitation
to people whom you only know as customers. Are you going to invite
the Princesse de Blamont-Chavry, who is more nearly related to your
godmother, the late Marquise d'Uxelles, than the Duc de Lenoncourt? You
surely don't mean to invite the two Messieurs