"Didn't you see, at dinner," replied Rastignac, laughing, "her son,
the Duc de Maufrigneuse. That young man is nineteen years old;
nineteen and seventeen make--"

"Thirty-six!" cried the amazed author. "I gave her twenty."

"She'll accept them," said Rastignac; "but don't be uneasy, she will
always be twenty to you. You are about to enter the most fantastic of
worlds. Good-night, here you are at home," said the baron, as they
entered the rue de Bellefond, where d'Arthez lived in a pretty little
house of his own. "We shall meet at Mademoiselle des Touches's in the
course of the week."



CHAPTER III

THE PRINCESS GOES TO WORK

D'Arthez allowed love to enter his heart after the manner of my Uncle
Toby, without making the slightest resistance; he proceeded by
adoration without criticism, and by exclusive admiration. The
princess, that noble creature, one of the most remarkable creations of
our monstrous Paris, where all things are possible, good as well as
evil, became--whatever vulgarity the course of time may have given to
the expression--the angel of his dreams. To fully understand the
sudden transformation of this illustrious author, it is necessary to
realize the simplicity that constant work and solitude leave in the
heart; all that love--reduced to a mere need, and now repugnant,