ulted the young man's face with an intent
submissiveness that betrays all the secrets of a woman's heart, and
Rastignac all at once began to hate him violently. To begin with, the
sight of the fair carefully arranged curls on the other's comely
head had convinced him that his own crop was hideous; Maxime's boots,
moreover, were elegant and spotless, while his own, in spite of all
his care, bore some traces of his recent walk; and, finally, Maxime's
overcoat fitted the outline of his figure gracefully, he looked like a
pretty woman, while Eugene was wearing a black coat at half-past two.
The quick-witted child of the Charente felt the disadvantage at which he
was placed beside this tall, slender dandy, with the clear gaze and
the pale face, one of those men who would ruin orphan children without
scruple. Mme. de Restaud fled into the next room without waiting for
Eugene to speak; shaking out the skirts of her dressing-gown in her
flight, so that she looked like a white butterfly, and Maxime hurried
after her. Eugene, in a fury, followed Maxime and the Countess, and
the three stood once more face to face by the hearth in the large
drawing-room. The law student felt quite sure that the odious Maxime
found him in the way, and even at the risk of displeasing Mme. de
Restaud, he meant to annoy the dandy. It had struck him all at once that
he had seen the young man before at Mme. de Beauseant's ball; he guessed
the relation between Maxime and Mme. de Restaud; and with the youthful
audacity that commits prodigious blunders or achieves signal success, he
said to himself, "This is my rival; I mean to cut him out."

Rash resolve! He did not know that M. le Comte Maxime de Trailles would
wait till he was insulted, so as to fire first and kill his man. Eugene
was a sportsman and a good shot, but he had not yet hit the bulls's eye
twenty times out of twenty-two. The young Count dropped into a low chair
by the hearth, took up the tongs, and made up the fire so violently and
so sulkily, that Anastasie's fair face suddenly clouded over. She turned
to Eugene, with a cool, questioning glance that asked plainly, "Why do
you not go?" a glance which well-bred people regard as a cue to make
their exit.

Eugene assumed an amiable expression.

"Madame," he began, "I hastened to call upon you----"

He stopped short. The door opened, and the owner of the tilbury suddenly
appeared. He had left his hat outside, and did not greet the Countess;
h