“What joy!” cried Coralie, as soon as Camusot had departed. “You will not go back now to your garret in the Latin Quarter; you will live here. We shall always be together. You can take a room in the Rue Charlot for the sake of appearances, and vogue le galere!”
She began to dance her Spanish dance, with an excited eagerness that revealed the strength of the passion in her heart.
“If I work hard I may make five hundred francs a month,” Lucien said.
“And I shall make as much again at the theatre, without counting extras. Camusot will pay for my dresses as before. He is fond of me! We can live like Croesus on fifteen hundred francs a month.”
“And the horses? and the coachman? and the footman?” inquired Berenice.
“I will get into debt,” said Coralie. And she began to dance with Lucien.
“I must close with Finot after this,” Lucien exclaimed.
“There!” said Coralie, “I will dress and take you to your office. I will wait outside in the boulevard for you with the carriage.”
Lucien sat down on the sofa and made some very sober reflections as he watched Coralie at her toilet. It would have been wiser to leave Coralie free than to start all at once with such an establishment; but Coralie was there before his eyes, and Coralie was so lovely, so graceful, so bewitching, that the more picturesque aspects of bohemia were in evidence; and he flung down the gauntlet to fortune.
Berenice was ordered to superintend Lucien’s removal and installation; and Coralie, triumphant, radiant, and happy, carried off her love, her poet, and must needs go all over Paris on the way to the Rue Saint-Fiacre. Lucien sprang lightly up the staircase, and entered the office with an air of being quite at home. Coloquinte was there with the stamped paper still on his head; and old Giroudeau told him again, hypocritically enough, that no one had yet come in.
“But the editor and contributors must meet somewhere or other to arrange about the journal,” said Lucien.
“Very likely; but I have nothing to do with the writing of the paper,” said the Emperor’s captain, resuming his occupation of checking off wrappers with his eternal broum! broum!
Was it lucky or unlucky? Finot chanced to come in at that very moment to announce his sham abdication and to bid Giroudeau watch over his interests.
“No shilly-shally with this gentleman; he is on the staff,” Finot added for his uncle’s benefit, as he grasped Lucien by the hand.
“Oh! is he on the paper?” exclaimed Giroudeau, much surprised at this friendliness. “Well, sir, you came on without much difficulty.”
“I want to make things snug for you here, lest Etienne should bamboozle you,” continued Finot, looking knowingly at Lucien. “This gentleman will be paid three francs per column all round, including theatres.”
“You have never taken any one on such terms before,” said Giroudeau, opening his eyes.


