was next to that which Anna Grossetete had taken. The two intimate
friends did not even bow; neither chose to acknowledge the other. At
the end of the first act Lousteau left his seat, abandoning Dinah to the
fire of eyes, the glare of opera-glasses; while the Baronne de Fontaine
and the Comtesse Marie de Vandenesse, who accompanied her, received some
of the most distinguished men of fashion.

Dinah's solitude was all the more distressing because she had not
the art of putting a good face to the matter by examining the company
through her opera-glass. In vain did she try to assume a dignified and
thoughtful attitude, and fix her eyes on vacancy; she was overpoweringly
conscious of being the object of general attention; she could not
disguise her discomfort, and lapsed a little into provincialism,
displaying her handkerchief and making involuntary movements of which
she had almost cured herself. At last, between the second and third
acts, a man had himself admitted to Dinah's box! It was Monsieur de
Clagny.

"I am happy to see you, to tell you how much I am pleased by your
promotion," said she.

"Oh! Madame, for whom should I come to Paris----?"

"What!" said she. "Have I anything to do with your appointment?"

"Everything," said he. "Since you left Sancerre, it had become
intolerable to me; I was dying--"

"Your sincere friendship does me good," replied she, holding out her
hand. "I am in a position to make much of my true friends; I now know
their value.--I feared I must have lost your esteem, but the proof you
have given me by this visit touches me more deeply than your ten years'
attachment."

"You are an object of curiosity to the whole house," said the lawyer.
"Oh! my dear, is this a part for you to be playing? Could you not be
happy and yet remain honored?--I have just heard that you are Monsieur
Etienne Lousteau's mistress, that you live together as man and
wife!--You have broken for ever with society; even if you should some
day marry your lover, the time will come when you will feel the want
of the respectability you now despise. Ought you not to be in a home of
your own with your mother, who loves you well enough to protect you with
her aegis?--Appearances at least would be saved."

"I am in the wrong to have come here," replied she, "that is all.--I
have bid farewell to all the advantages which the world confers on women
who know how to reconcile happiness and the proprieties. My abnegation
is so c