s d'Ajuda-Pinto. It was one of those innocent _liaisons_ which
possess so much charm for the two thus attached to each other that
they find the presence of a third person intolerable. The Vicomte de
Beauseant, therefore, had himself set an example to the rest of the
world by respecting, with as good a grace as might be, this morganatic
union. Any one who came to call on the Vicomtesse in the early days of
this friendship was sure to find the Marquis d'Ajuda-Pinto there. As,
under the circumstances, Mme. de Beauseant could not very well shut her
door against these visitors, she gave them such a cold reception, and
showed so much interest in the study of the ceiling, that no one could
fail to understand how much he bored her; and when it became known in
Paris that Mme. de Beauseant was bored by callers between two and four
o'clock, she was left in perfect solitude during that interval. She
went to the Bouffons or to the Opera with M. de Beauseant and M.
d'Ajuda-Pinto; and M. de Beauseant, like a well-bred man of the world,
always left his wife and the Portuguese as soon as he had installed
them. But M. d'Ajuda-Pinto must marry, and a Mlle. de Rochefide was the
young lady. In the whole fashionable world there was but one person who
as yet knew nothing of the arrangement, and that was Mme. de Beauseant.
Some of her friends had hinted at the possibility, and she had laughed
at them, believing that envy had prompted those ladies to try to make
mischief. And now, though the bans were about to be published, and
although the handsome Portuguese had come that day to break the news to
the Vicomtesse, he had not found courage as yet to say one word about
his treachery. How was it? Nothing is doubtless more difficult than the
notification of an ultimatum of this kind. There are men who feel more
at their ease when they stand up before another man who threatens their
lives with sword or pistol than in the presence of a woman who, after
two hours of lamentations and reproaches, falls into a dead swoon and
requires salts. At this moment, therefore, M. d'Ajuda-Pinto was on
thorns, and anxious to take his leave. He told himself that in some
way or other the news would reach Mme. de Beauseant; he would write, it
would be much better to do it by letter, and not to utter the words that
should stab her to the heart.

So when the servant announced M. Eugene de Rastignac, the Marquis
d'Ajuda-Pinto trembled with joy. To be sure, a loving woman s