“You know what Angouleme is talking about, of course?”

“No.”

“Very well, I am too much your friend to leave you in ignorance.  I am bound to put you in a position to silence slanders, invented, no doubt, by Amelie, who has the overweening audacity to regard herself as your rival.  I came to call on you this morning with that monkey of a Stanislas; he was a few paces ahead of me, and he came so far” (pointing to the door of the boudoir); “he says that he saw you and M. de Rubempre in such a position that he could not enter; he turned round upon me, quite bewildered as I was, and hurried me away before I had time to think; we were out in Beaulieu before he told me why he had beaten a retreat.  If I had known, I would not have stirred out of the house till I had cleared up the matter and exonerated you, but it would have proved nothing to go back again then.

“Now, whether Stanislas’ eyes deceived him, or whether he is right, he must have made a mistake.  Dear Nais, do not let that dolt trifle with your life, your honor, your future; stop his mouth at once.  You know my position here.  I have need of all these people, but still I am entirely yours.  Dispose of a life that belongs to you.  You have rejected my prayers, but my heart is always yours; I am ready to prove my love for you at any time and in any way.  Yes, I will watch over you like a faithful servant, for no reward, but simply for the sake of the pleasure that it is to me to do anything for you, even if you do not know of it.  This morning I have said everywhere that I was at the door of the salon, and had seen nothing.  If you are asked to give the name of the person who told you about this gossip, pray make use of me.  I should be very proud to be your acknowledged champion; but, between ourselves, M. de Bargeton is the proper person to ask Stanislas for an explanation. . . .  Suppose that young Rubempre had behaved foolishly, a woman’s character ought not to be at the mercy of the first hare-brained boy who flings himself at her feet.  That is what I have been saying.”

Nais bowed in acknowledgment, and looked thoughtful.  She was weary to disgust of provincial life.  Chatelet had scarcely begun before her mind turned to Paris.  Meanwhile Mme. de Bargeton’s adorer found the silence somewhat awkward.

“Dispose of me, I repeat,” he added.

“Thank you,” answered the lady.

“What do you think of doing?”

“I shall see.”

A prolonged pause.

“Are you so fond of that young Rubempre?”

A proud smile stole over her lips, she folded her arms, and fixed her gaze on the curtains.  Chatelet went out; he could not read that high heart.

Later in the evening, when Lucien had taken his leave, and likewise the four old gentlemen who came for their whist, without troubling themselves about ill-founded tittle-tattle, M. de Bargeton was preparing to go to bed, and had opened his mouth to bid his wife good-night, when she stopped him.