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Updated: May 27, 2025
He grasped Rastignac's hand sadly and affectionately, and turned away from him. Eugene went back to the Hotel Beauseant, the servant took him to the Vicomtesse's room. There were signs there of preparations for a journey. He sat down by the fire, fixed his eyes on the cedar wood casket, and fell into deep mournful musings.
The Vicomtesse's beauty shone out again for him in the darkness; his reviving impressions called up yet others, and he was enthralled anew by womanly charm and wit, which at first he had not perceived. He fell to wandering musings, in which the most lucid thoughts grow refractory and flatly contradict each other, and the soul passes through a brief frenzy fit.
Surely the beautiful Vicomtesse's personal interest would turn the scale for me, when the mere mention of her name produces such an effect. Let us look higher. If you set yourself to carry the heights of heaven, you must face God." The innumerable thoughts that surged through his brain might be summed up in these phrases.
The dainty envelope bore the Beauseant arms on the seal, and contained an invitation to the Vicomtesse's great ball, which had been talked of in Paris for a month. A little note for Eugene was slipped in with the card. "I think, monsieur, that you will undertake with pleasure to interpret my sentiments to Mme. de Nucingen, so I am sending the card for which you asked me to you.
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!
I think as you do," she said, pressing the Vicomtesse's hand. "The world is a slough; let us try to live on the heights above it." She rose to her feet and kissed Mme. de Beauseant on the forehead as she said: "You look very charming to-day, dear. I have never seen such a lovely color in your cheeks before." Then she went out with a slight inclination of the head to the cousin.
"Claire," returned the Duchess, and hatred overflowed in the glances she threw at Mme. de Beauseant; "of course you know that M. d'Ajuda-Pinto is going to marry Mlle. de Rochefide; the bans will be published to-morrow." This thrust was too cruel; the Vicomtesse's face grew white, but she answered, laughing, "One of those rumors that fools amuse themselves with.
"Well," pursued Derville, when he had heard the Vicomtesse's brother to the end, "I had heard a good deal about this individual from poor old Goriot, a client of mine; and I had already been at some pains to avoid the dangerous honor of his acquaintance, for I came across him sometimes in society.
When a man once enters on a course of deception, he is compelled to add lie to lie. M. d'Ajuda therefore said, smiling, "Do you lay your commands on me?" "Yes, certainly." "That was what I wanted to have you say to me," he answered, dissembling his feelings in a glance which would have reassured any other woman. He took the Vicomtesse's hand, kissed it, and went.
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