GOBSECK

It was one o'clock in the morning, during the winter of 1829-30, but
in the Vicomtesse de Grandlieu's salon two persons stayed on who did
not belong to her family circle. A young and good-looking man heard
the clock strike, and took his leave. When the courtyard echoed with
the sound of a departing carriage, the Vicomtesse looked up, saw that
no one was present save her brother and a friend of the family
finishing their game of piquet, and went across to her daughter. The
girl, standing by the chimney-piece, apparently examining a
transparent fire-screen, was listening to the sounds from the
courtyard in a way that justified certain maternal fears.

"Camille," said the Vicomtesse, "if you continue to behave to young
Comte de Restaud as you have done this evening, you will oblige me to
see no more of him here. Listen, child, and if you have any confidence
in my love, let me guide you in life. At seventeen one cannot judge of
past or future, nor of certain social considerations. I have only one
thing to say to you. M. de Restaud has a mother, a mother who would
waste millions of francs; a woman of no birth, a Mlle. Goriot; people
talked a good deal about her at one time. She behaved so badly to her
own father, that she certainly does not deserve to have so good a son.
The young Count adores her, and maintains her in her position with
dutifulness worthy of all praise, and he is extremely good to his
brother and sister.--But however admirable _his_ behavior may be," the
Vicomtesse added with a shrewd expression, "so long as his mother
lives, any family would take alarm at the idea of intrusting a
daughter's fortune and future to young Restaud."

"I overheard a word now and again in your talk with Mlle. de