earty supper.

By the beginning of September, Lucien had ceased to be a printer's
foreman; he was M. de Rubempre, housed sumptuously in comparison with
his late quarters in the tumbledown attic with the dormer-window,
where "young Chardon" had lived in L'Houmeau; he was not even a "man of
L'Houmeau"; he lived in the heights of Angouleme, and dined four times
a week with Mme. de Bargeton. A friendship had grown up between M. de
Rubempre and the Bishop, and he went to the palace. His occupations put
him upon a level with the highest rank; his name would be one day among
the great names of France; and, in truth, as he went to and fro in
his apartments, the pretty sitting-room, the charming bedroom, and the
tastefully furnished study, he might console himself for the thought
that he drew thirty francs every month out of his mother's and sister's
hard earnings; for he saw the day approaching when _An Archer of Charles
IX._, the historical romance on which he had been at work for two years,
and a volume of verse entitled _Marguerites_, should spread his fame
through the world of literature, and bring in money enough to repay them
all, his mother and sister and David. So, grown great in his own eyes,
and giving ear to the echoes of his name in the future, he could accept
present sacrifices with noble assurance; he smiled at his poverty, he
relished the sense of these last days of penury.

Eve and David had set Lucien's happiness before their own. They had put
off their wedding, for it took some time to paper and paint their rooms,
and to buy the furniture, and Lucien's affairs had been settled first.
No one who knew Lucien could wonder at their devotion. Lucien was so
engaging, he had such winning ways, his impatience and his desires were
so graciously expressed, that his cause was always won before he opened
his mouth to speak. This unlucky gift of fortune, if it is the salvation
of some, is the ruin of many more. Lucien and his like find a world
predisposed in favor of youth and good looks, and ready to protect those
who give it pleasure with the selfish good-nature that flings alms to a
beggar, if he appeals to the feelings and awakens emotion; and in this
favor many a grown child is content to bask instead of putting it to
a profitable use. With mistaken notions as to the significance and the
motive of social relations they imagine that they shall always meet
with deceptive smiles; and so at last the moment comes for them