could get him to buy back Nucingen in Alsace in my name; that has
always been a pet idea of his. Still, come to-morrow and go through
the books, and look into the business. M. Derville knows little of
mercantile matters. No, not to-morrow though. I do not want to be
upset. Mme. de Beauseant's ball will be the day after to-morrow, and I
must keep quiet, so as to look my best and freshest, and do honor to
my dear Eugene! . . . Come, let us see his room."

But as she spoke a carriage stopped in the Rue
Nueve-Sainte-Genevieve, and the sound of Mme. de Restaud's voice came
from the staircase. "Is my father in?" she asked of Sylvie.

This accident was luckily timed for Eugene, whose one idea had been to
throw himself down on the bed and pretend to be asleep.

"Oh, father, have you heard about Anastasie?" said Delphine, when she
heard her sister speak. "It looks as though some strange things had
happened in that family."

"What sort of things?" asked Goriot. "This is like to be the death of
me. My poor head will not stand a double misfortune."

"Good-morning, father," said the Countess from the threshold. "Oh!
Delphine, are you here?"

Mme. de Restaud seemed taken aback by her sister's presence.

"Good-morning, Nasie," said the Baroness. "What is there so
extraordinary in my being here? _I_ see our father every day."