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Updated: June 11, 2025
She counseled him to take a bold step and renounce his patronymic for the noble name of Rubempre; he need not mind the little tittle-tattle over a change which the King, for that matter, would authorize. Mme. de Bargeton undertook to procure this favor; she was related to the Marquise d'Espard, who was a Blamont-Chauvry before her marriage, and a persona grata at Court.
The Marquise d'Espard, Mme. de Bargeton, and Mme. de Montcornet's set have taken up the Heron's cause; and I have undertaken to reconcile Petrarch and his Laura Mme. de Bargeton and Lucien." "Aha!" cried Lucien, the glow of the intoxication of revenge throbbing full-pulsed through every vein. "Aha! so my foot is on their necks!
"I don't know," answered M. de Bargeton, relapsing into immobility. "You have not cared to find out," Lucien began again; "any one who could make an observation could discover the cause." "Ah!" said M. de Bargeton, "final causes! Eh! eh!..." The conversation came to a dead stop; Lucien racked his brains to resuscitate it.
The poet thought, and not without reason, that there was a fortune in his good looks and intellect, accompanied by the name and title of Rubempre. Mme. d'Espard and Mme. de Bargeton held him fast by this clue, as a child holds a cockchafer by a string. Lucien's flight was circumscribed.
I should be very proud to be your acknowledged champion; but, between ourselves, M. de Bargeton is the proper person to ask Stanislas for an explanation.... Suppose that young Rubempre had behaved foolishly, a woman's character ought not to be at the mercy of the first hare-brained boy who flings himself at her feet. That is what I have been saying."
M. de Bargeton stayed a few minutes, scrutinized people's faces, and retired. "Have you pistols?" Chatelet asked in a whisper of Stanislas, who shook from head to foot. Amelie knew what it all meant. She felt ill, and the women flocked about her to take her into her bedroom. There was a terrific sensation; everybody talked at once.
"I should have asked you whether I had succeeded," Lucien answered; "you have been before me in the field of verse." At this moment Mme. de Bargeton appeared in all the glory of an elaborate toilette. She wore a Jewess' turban, enriched with an Eastern clasp.
The only outsider intimate there was the bishop; the prefect was admitted twice or thrice in a year, the receiver-general was never received at all; Mme. de Bargeton would go to concerts and "at homes" at his house, but she never accepted invitations to dinner. And now, she who had declined to open her doors to the receiver-general, welcomed a mere controller of excise!
The men stopped in the drawing-room, and declared, with one voice, that M. de Bargeton was within his right. "Would you have thought the old fogy capable of acting like this?" asked M. de Saintot. "But he was a crack shot when he was young," said the pitiless Jacques. "My father often used to tell me of Bargeton's exploits." "Pooh!
With that speech, and the queenly way in which it was uttered, Mme. de Bargeton recovered her position. Lucien, convinced that he was a thousand times in the right, felt that he had been put in the wrong. Not one word of the causes of the rupture! not one syllable of the terrible farewell letter!
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