ally see less
and less of his friends, and should show an inclination to be ashamed
of his relations, for the sake of a woman crippled with rheumatism,
and no longer young, who, however passionately she may have loved him
in the past, seemed now to have grown tired of him. Sophie and
Valentine Surville were no doubt delighted to receive magnificent silk
wraps from their uncle, trimmed with Russian fur; but the letter
accompanying the gift must, we think, have rather spoiled their
pleasure, or at any rate was likely to have hurt their mother's
feelings. It was surely hardly necessary to inform "ma pauvre Sophie"
that it was in vain for her to compete with the Countess Georges in
proficiency on the piano, as the latter had "the genius of music, as
of love"; and a long string of that wonderful young lady's perfections
must have been rather wearying to those who had not the felicity of
being acquainted with her. Apparently the young Countess possessed
deep knowledge without pedantry, and was of delicious naivete,
laughing like a little child; though this did not prevent her from
showing religious enthusiasm about beautiful things. Further, she was
of angelic goodness, intensely observant, yet extremely discreet, most
respectful to her adored mother, very industrious, and she lived only
for duty. "All these advantages are set off by a proud air, full of
good breeding, an air of ease and grandeur which is not possessed by
every queen, and which is quite lost in France, where every one wishes
to be equal. This outward distinction, this look of being a great
lady, is one of the most precious gifts which God, the God of women,
can bestow on them."[*] To paint her character aright, Balzac says, it
would be necessary to blend in one word virtues which a moralist would
consider it impossible to find united in a single human being; and her
"sublime education" was a crown to the whole edifice of her
perfections.

[*] "Correspondance," vol. ii. p. 345.

The only consolation which an impartial though possibly unprincipled
observer, might have offered at this point to the unfortunate Sophie
and Valentine, would be the fact that the young Countess was evidently
extremely plain, as even Balzac's partiality only allows him to say:
"Physically she possesses grace, which is more beautiful even than
beauty, and this triumphs over a complexion which is still brown (she
is hardly sixteen years old), and over a nose which, though well cut,
is