frigneuse
was much praised for interesting herself in Victurnien. Any writer of
plays in search of a piece of pure comedy would have found it well worth
his while to listen to the Antiquities in conclave.

Victurnien received charming letters from his father and aunt, and also
from the Chevalier. That gentleman recalled himself to the Vidame's
memory. He had been at Spa with M. de Pamiers in 1778, after a certain
journey made by a celebrated Hungarian princess. And Chesnel also wrote.
The fond flattery to which the unhappy boy was only too well accustomed
shone out of every page; and Mlle. Armande seemed to share half of Mme.
de Maufrigneuse's happiness.

Thus happy in the approval of his family, the young Count made a
spirited beginning in the perilous and costly ways of dandyism. He had
five horses--he was moderate--de Marsay had fourteen! He returned the
Vidame's hospitality, even including Blondet in the invitation, as well
as de Marsay and Rastignac. The dinner cost five hundred francs, and the
noble provincial was feted on the same scale. Victurnien played a good
deal, and, for his misfortune, at the fashionable game of whist.

He laid out his days in busy idleness. Every day between twelve and
three o'clock he was with the Duchess; afterwards he went to meet her
in the Bois de Boulogne and ride beside her carriage. Sometimes the
charming couple rode together, but this was early in fine summer
mornings. Society, balls, the theatre, and gaiety filled the Count's
evening hours. Everywhere Victurnien made a brilliant figure, everywhere
he flung the pearls of his wit broadcast. He gave his opinion on men,
affairs, and events in profound sayings; he would have put you in
mind of a fruit-tree putting forth all its strength in blossom. He
was leading an enervating life wasteful of money, and even yet more
wasteful, it may be of a man's soul; in that life the fairest talents
are buried out of sight, the most incorruptible honesty perishes, the
best-tempered springs of will are slackened.

The Duchess, so white and fragile and angel-like, felt attracted to
the dissipations of bachelor life; she enjoyed first nights, she liked
anything amusing, anything improvised. Bohemian restaurants lay outside
her experience; so d'Esgrignon got up a charming little party at the
Rocher de Cancale for her benefit, asked all the amiable scamps whom
she cultivated and sermonized, and there was a vast amount of merriment,
wit, and ga