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Eugene made a profound bow and took his leave, followed by M. de Restaud, who insisted, in spite of his remonstrances, on accompanying him into the hall. "Neither your mistress nor I are at home to that gentleman when he calls," the Count said to Maurice. As Eugene set foot on the steps, he saw that it was raining.
I was just going away when Mme. de Restaud came out into an ante-chamber through a door that I did not notice, and said, 'Christophe, tell my father that my husband wants me to discuss some matters with him, and I cannot leave the house, the life or death of my children is at stake; but as soon as it is over, I will come. As for Madame la Baronne, that is another story!
"The Count has given us the strictest orders, sir " "If it is M. de Restaud who has given the orders, tell him that his father-in-law is dying, and that I am here, and must speak with him at once." The man went out. Eugene waited for a long while. "Perhaps her father is dying at this moment," he thought. Then the man came back, and Eugene followed him to the little drawing-room.
Each had half her father's fortune as her dowry; and when the Comte de Restaud came to woo Anastasie for her beauty, her social aspirations led her to leave her father's house for a more exalted sphere. Delphine wished for money; she married Nucingen, a banker of German extraction, who became a Baron of the Holy Roman Empire. Goriot remained a vermicelli maker as before.
"Mademoiselle Camille will be wide awake in a moment if I say that her happiness depended not so long ago upon Daddy Gobseck; but as the old gentleman died at the age of ninety, M. de Restaud will soon be in possession of a handsome fortune. This requires some explanation. As for poor Fanny Malvaut, you know her; she is my wife."
"'Oh, Isaure d'Aldrigger? Why, yes. The mother is a widow; Nucingen was once a clerk in her husband's bank at Strasbourg. Do you want to see them again? Just turn off a compliment for Mme. de Restaud; she is giving a ball the day after to-morrow; the Baroness d'Aldrigger and her two daughters will be there. You will have an invitation.
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.
"So we may not laugh here?" returned the painter. "What harm does it do? Bianchon said that the old man was quite insensible." "Well, then," said the employe from the Museum, "he will die as he has lived." "My father is dead!" shrieked the Countess. The terrible cry brought Sylvie, Rastignac, and Bianchon; Mme. de Restaud had fainted away.
"In your own house?" asked Mme. de Restaud, looking at her sister. "What does it matter where they were?" asked Goriot. "The money is spent now." "I see how it is," said the Countess. "Rooms for M. de Rastignac. Poor Delphine, take warning by me!" "M. de Rastignac is incapable of ruining the woman he loves, dear." "Thanks! Delphine.
"Do nothing of the kind!" cried Goriot. "Aha! M. de Restaud, you could not make your wife happy; she has looked for happiness and found it elsewhere, and you make her suffer for your own ineptitude? He will have to reckon with me. Make yourself easy, Nasie. Aha! he cares about his heir! Good, very good. I will get hold of the boy; isn't he my grandson? What the blazes!
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