ed him hardly, crying to him, "You will be a
journalist--a journalist!" as the witch cried to Macbeth that he should
be king hereafter!

Out in the street, he looked up at d'Arthez's windows, and saw a faint
light shining in them, and his heart sank. A dim foreboding told him
that he had bidden his friends good-bye for the last time.

As he turned out of the Place de la Sorbonne into the Rue de Cluny, he
saw a carriage at the door of his lodging. Coralie had driven all the
way from the Boulevard du Temple for the sake of a moment with her lover
and a "good-night." Lucien found her sobbing in his garret. She would be
as wretchedly poor as her poet, she wept, as she arranged his shirts and
gloves and handkerchiefs in the crazy chest of drawers. Her distress
was so real and so great, that Lucien, but even now chidden for his
connection with an actress, saw Coralie as a saint ready to assume the
hair-shirt of poverty. The adorable girl's excuse for her visit was
an announcement that the firm of Camusot, Coralie, and Lucien meant to
invite Matifat, Florine, and Lousteau (the second trio) to supper; had
Lucien any invitations to issue to people who might be useful to him?
Lucien said that he would take counsel of Lousteau.

A few moments were spent together, and Coralie hurried away. She spared
Lucien the knowledge that Camusot was waiting for her below.

Next morning, at eight o'clock, Lucien went to Etienne Lousteau's room,
found it empty, and hurried away to Florine. Lousteau and Florine,
settled into possession of their new quarters like a married couple,
received their friend in the pretty bedroom, and all three breakfasted
sumptuously together.

"Why, I should advise you, my boy, to come with me to see Felicien
Vernou," said Lousteau, when they sat at table, and Lucien had mentioned
Coralie's projected supper; "ask him to be of the party, and keep well
with him, if you can keep well with such a rascal. Felicien Vernou does
a _feuilleton_ for a political paper; he might perhaps introduce you,
and you could blossom out into leaders in it at your ease. It is a
Liberal paper, like ours; you will be a Liberal, that is the popular
party; and besides, if you mean to go over to the Ministerialists, you
would do better for yourself if they had reason to be afraid of you.
Then there is Hector Merlin and his Mme. du Val-Noble; you meet great
people at their house--dukes and dandies and millionaires; didn't they
ask you and Co