The month of October was lovely; autumn is the finest season in the valley of the Loire; but in 1836 it was unusually glorious. Nature seemed to aid and abet Dinah, who, as Bianchon had predicted, gradually developed a heart-felt passion. In one month she was an altered woman. She was surprised to find in herself so many inert and dormant qualities, hitherto in abeyance.

"Poir-r-r-rette! she had you there!" "Score two points to Mamma Vauquer," said Vautrin. "Did any of you notice the fog this morning?" asked the official. "It was a frantic fog," said Bianchon, "a fog unparalleled, doleful, melancholy, sea-green, asthmatical a Goriot of a fog!" "A Goriorama," said the art student, "because you couldn't see a thing in it." "Hey!

"Believe me," said Bianchon, "what he wants is to be truly loved; and if he alters his course of life, it will be to the benefit of his talent." Dinah's coachman hurried up breathlessly to say that the diligence had come in, and they walked on quickly, Madame de la Baudraye between the two men. "Good-bye, my children!" said Bianchon, before they got into the town, "you have my blessing!"

On reaching a copse, Monsieur Gravier left the two great men and Gatien, under the guidance of a keeper, to make their way through a little ravine. "Well, we must wait for Monsieur Gravier," said Bianchon, when they had reached a clearing. "You may be a great physician," said Gatien, "but you are ignorant of provincial life. You mean to wait for Monsieur Gravier?

I understand that the festivities are over, the lovers have returned to the Bracciano Palace; it is night one o'clock in the morning. Rinaldo will have a good time." "And Adolphe too!" said President Boirouge, who was considered rather free in his speech. "And the style!" said Bianchon. "Rinaldo, who saw no better refuge than to make for the cellar."

The mother thought only of her son; she herself counted for nothing; sustained by love, she was unaware of her sufferings. D'Arthez, Michel Chrestien, Fulgence Ridal, Pierre Grassou, and Bianchon often kept Joseph company, and she heard them talking art in a low voice in a corner of her room.

Bianchon had placed himself where he could watch the old man carefully; and when the old vermicelli maker took up his square of bread and smelled it to find out the quality of the flour, the medical student, studying him closely, saw that the action was purely mechanical, and shook his head. "Just come and sit over here, hospitaller of Cochin," said Eugene.

I only wish to be out of bed for an hour at most." "What is your object?" inquired Bianchon. "To sleep; for so one keeps alive, at any rate," the patient answered. "Let no one come in, not even Mlle. Pauline de Wistchnau!" he added to Jonathan, as the doctor was writing out his prescription.

At the moment when Victorin was listening to Doctor Bianchon, who was giving him, at some length, his reasons for hoping that the crisis might be got over, the man-servant announced that a client, Madame de Saint-Esteve, was waiting to see him. Victorin left Bianchon in the middle of a sentence and flew downstairs like a madman.

"You have changed your gown," said Gatien, blunderingly, to Dinah. "Madame la Baronne was chilled by the cool air off the river," replied Lousteau. "Bianchon advised her to put on a warm dress." Dinah turned as red as a poppy, and Madame Piedefer assumed a stern expression. "Poor Bianchon! he is on the road to Paris. A noble soul!" said Lousteau.