into her set;
but you meet all the greatest people at her house, Cabinet ministers and
ambassadors, and great orators from the Chamber of Deputies, and peers
and men of influence, and wealthy or famous people. A young man with
good looks and more than sufficient genius could fail to excite interest
only by very bad management.

"There is no pettiness about those who are truly great; they will lend
you their support; and when you yourself have a high position, your work
will rise immensely in public opinion. The great problem for the artist
is the problem of putting himself in evidence. In these ways there will
be hundreds of chances of making your way, of sinecures, of a pension
from the civil list. The Bourbons are so fond of encouraging letters and
the arts, and you therefore must be a religious poet and a Royalist poet
at the same time. Not only is it the right course, but it is the way
to get on in life. Do the Liberals and the Opposition give places and
rewards, and make the fortunes of men of letters? Take the right road
and reach the goal of genius. You have my secret, do not breathe a
syllable of it, and prepare to follow me.--Would you rather not go?" she
added, surprised that her lover made no answer.

To Lucien, listening to the alluring words, and bewildered by the rapid
bird's-eye view of Paris which they brought before him, it seemed as if
hitherto he had been using only half his brain and suddenly had found
the other half, so swiftly his ideas widened. He saw himself stagnating
in Angouleme like a frog under a stone in a marsh. Paris and her
splendors rose before him; Paris, the Eldorado of provincial imaginings,
with golden robes and the royal diadem about her brows, and arms
outstretched to talent of every kind. Great men would greet him there as
one of their order. Everything smiled upon genius. There, there were no
jealous booby-squires to invent stinging gibes and humiliate a man of
letters; there was no stupid indifference to poetry in Paris. Paris was
the fountain-head of poetry; there the poet was brought into the light
and paid for his work. Publishers should no sooner read the opening
pages of _An Archer of Charles IX._ than they should open their
cash-boxes with "How much do you want?" And besides all this, he
understood that this journey with Mme. de Bargeton would virtually give
her to him; that they should live together.

So at the words, "Would you rather not go?" tears came into his eye