y cub, like a she bear.... On the whole, I am
satisfied; it is a work of profound melancholy and of science. Truly, I
deserve to have a mistress, and my sorrow at not having one increases
daily; for love is my life and my essence.... I have a simple little
room," he goes on, "from which I see the whole valley. I rise pitilessly
at five o'clock in the morning, and work before my window until
half-past five in the evening. My breakfast comes from the club--an egg.
Mme. de Castries has good coffee made for me. At six o'clock we dine
together, and I pass the evening with her. She is the finest type (_le
type le plus fin_) of woman; Mme. de Beauseant [from "Le Pere Goriot"]
improved; only, are not all these pretty manners acquired at the expense
of the soul?"

During his stay at Aix he met an excellent opportunity to go to Italy;
the Duke de Fitz-James, who was travelling southward, invited him to
become a member of his party. He discourses the economical problem (in
writing to his mother) with his usual intensity, and throws what will
seem to the modern traveller the light of enchantment upon that golden
age of cheapness. Occupying the fourth place in the carriage of the
Duchess of Castries, his quarter of the total travelling expenses from
Geneva to Rome (carriage, beds, food, etc.) was to be fifty dollars! But
he was ultimately prevented from joining the party. He went to Italy
some years later.

He mentions, in 1833, that the chapter entitled "Juana," in the superb
tale of "The Maranas," as also the story of "La Grenadiere," was written
in a single night. He gives at the same period this account of his
habits of work: "I must tell you that I am up to my neck in excessive
work. My life is mechanically arranged. I go to bed at six or seven in
the evening, with the chickens; I wake up at one in the morning and work
till eight; then I take something light, a cup of pure coffee, and get
into the shafts of my cab until four; I receive, I take a bath, or I go
out, and after dinner I go to bed. I must lead this life for some months
longer, in order not to be overwhelmed by my obligations. The profit
comes slowly; my debts are inexorable and fixed. Now, it is certain that
I will make a great fortune; but I must wait for it, and work for three
years. I must go over things, correct them again, put everything _en
etat monumental_; thankless work, not counted, without immediate
profit." He speaks of working at this amazing rate for