At this point the Marquis d’Ajuda appeared in Mme. de Beauseant’s box.
“I have made a muddle of my affairs to come to you,” he said, “and I am telling you about it, so that it may not be a sacrifice.”
Eugene saw the glow of joy on the Vicomtesse’s face, and knew that this was love, and learned the difference between love and the affectations of Parisian coquetry.
He admired his cousin, grew mute, and yielded his place to M. d’Ajuda with a sigh.
“How noble, how sublime a woman is when she loves like that!” he said to himself.
“And HE could forsake her for a doll!
Oh! how could any one forsake her?”
There was a boy’s passionate indignation in his heart.
He could have flung himself at Mme. de Beauseant’s feet; he longed for the power of the devil if he could snatch her away and hide her in his heart, as an eagle snatches up some white yeanling from the plains and bears it to its eyrie.
It was humiliating to him to think that in all this gallery of fair pictures he had not one picture of his own.
“To have a mistress and an almost royal position is a sign of power,” he said to himself.
And he looked at Mme. de Nucingen as a man measures another who has insulted him.
The Vicomtesse turned to him, and the expression of her eyes thanked him a thousand times for his discretion.
The first act came to an end just then.
“Do you know Mme. de Nucingen well enough to present M. de Rastignac to her?” she asked of the Marquis d’Ajuda.
“She will be delighted,” said the Marquis.
The handsome Portuguese rose as he spoke and took the student’s arm, and in another moment Eugene found himself in Mme. de Nucingen’s box.
“Madame,” said the Marquis, “I have the honor of presenting to you the Chevalier Eugene de Rastignac; he is a cousin of Mme. de Beauseant’s.
You have made so deep an impression upon him, that I thought I would fill up the measure of his happiness by bringing him nearer to his divinity.”
Words spoken half jestingly to cover their somewhat disrespectful import; but such an implication, if carefully disguised, never gives offence to a woman.
Mme. de Nucingen smiled, and offered Eugene the place which her husband had just left.
“I do not venture to suggest that you should stay with me, monsieur,” she said.
“Those who are so fortunate as to be in Mme. de Beauseant’s company do not desire to leave it.”
“Madame,” Eugene said, lowering his voice, “I think that to please my cousin I should remain with you. Before my lord Marquis came we were speaking of you and of your exceedingly distinguished appearance,” he added aloud.
M. d’Ajuda turned and left them.
“Are you really going to stay with me, monsieur?” asked the Baroness.
“Then we shall make each other’s acquaintance.
Mme. de Restaud told me about you, and has made me anxious to meet you.”
“She must be very insincere, then, for she has shut her door on me.”
“What?”
“Madame, I will tell you honestly the reason why; but I must crave your indulgence before confiding such a secret to you.
I am your father’s neighbor; I had no idea that Mme. de Restaud was his daughter.
I was rash enough to mention his name; I meant no harm, but I annoyed your sister and her husband very much.
You cannot think how severely the Duchesse de Langeais and my cousin blamed this apostasy on a daughter’s part, as a piece of bad taste.
I told them all about it, and they both burst out laughing.
Then Mme. de Beauseant made some comparison between you and your sister, speaking in high terms of you, and saying how very fond you were of my neighbor, M. Goriot.
And, indeed, how could you help loving him?
He adores you so passionately that I am jealous already.
We talked about you this morning for two hours.
So this evening I was quite full of all that your father had told me, and while I was dining with my cousin I said that you could not be as beautiful as affectionate.
Mme. de Beauseant meant to gratify such warm admiration, I think, when she brought me here, telling me, in her gracious way, that I should see you.”
“Then, even now, I owe you a debt of gratitude, monsieur,” said the banker’s wife.
“We shall be quite old friends in a little while.”
“Although a friendship with you could not be like an ordinary friendship,” said Rastignac; “I should never wish to be your friend.”
Such stereotyped phrases as these, in the mouths of beginners, possess an unfailing charm for women, and are insipid only when read coldly; for a young man’s tone, glance and attitude give a surpassing eloquence to the banal phrases.
Mme. de Nucingen thought that Rastignac was adorable.
Then, woman-like, being at a loss how to reply to the student’s outspoken admiration, she answered a previous remark.
“Yes, it is very wrong of my sister to treat our poor father as she does,” she said; “he has been a Providence to us.
It was not until M. de Nucingen positively ordered me only to receive him in the mornings that I yielded the point.
But I have been unhappy about it for a long while; I have shed many tears over it.