author. The father and mother were there, both anxious, the one
slightly sceptical, yet hoping that his son would reveal himself as a
man of talent; the other as mistrustful as ever, but at the same time
much distressed to see her son so thin and sallow, for during those
fifteen months of exile he had lost his high colour and his eyes were
feverish and his lips trembling, in spite of his fine air of assurance.
Laurence was there, young, lively and self-willed; and Laure also,
sharing the secret of the tragedy and sighing and trembling on behalf
of Honore, her favourite brother. It was a difficult audience to
conquer, for they had also invited for that evening such friends as
knew of the test imposed upon the oldest son; and these same friends,
while perhaps regarding it as a piece of parental weakness,
nevertheless now played the role of judges.

"At the end of April, 1820," relates Mme Surville, "he arrived at my
father's home with his finished tragedy. He was much elated, for he
counted upon scoring a triumph. Accordingly, he desired that a few
friends should be present at the reading. And he did not forget the one
who had so strangely underestimated him. (A friend, who judged him
solely on the strength of his excellent handwriting, declared, when the
question arose of choosing a position for him, that he would never make
anything better than a good shipping clerk.)

"The friends arrived, and the solemn test began. But the reader's
enthusiasm rapidly died out as he discovered how little impression he
was making and noted the coldness or the consternation on the faces
before him. I was one of those who shared in the consternation. What I
suffered during that reading was a foretaste of the terrors I was
destined to experience at the opening performances of Vautrin and
Quinola.