“When our pigeon first advanced towards his dove, Nucingen, knowing the Baroness’ character, must have spoken plainly to Malvina on the financial position.  At that time three hundred thousand francs were left; the income of twenty-four thousand francs was reduced to eighteen thousand.  Wirth had kept up this state of things for three years!  After that confidential interview, Malvina put down the carriage, sold the horses, and dismissed the coachman, without her mother’s knowledge.  The furniture, now ten years old, could not be renewed, but it all faded together, and for those that like harmony the effect was not half bad.  The Baroness herself, that so well-preserved flower, began to look like the last solitary frost-touched rose on a November bush.  I myself watched the slow decline of luxury by half-tones and semi-tones!  Frightful, upon my honor!  It was my last trouble of the kind; afterwards I said to myself, ‘It is silly to care so much about other people.’  But while I was in civil service, I was fool enough to take a personal interest in the houses where I dined; I used to stand up for them; I would say no ill of them myself; I—­oh!  I was a child.

“Well, when the ci-devant pearl’s daughter put the state of the case before her, ‘Oh my poor children,’ cried she, ’who will make my dresses now?  I cannot afford new bonnets; I cannot see visitors here nor go out.’—­Now by what token do you know that a man is in love?” said Bixiou, interrupting himself.  “The question is, whether Beaudenord was genuinely in love with the fair-haired girl.”

“He neglects his interests,” said Couture.

“He changes his shirt three times a day,” opined Blondet; “a man of more than ordinary ability, can he, and ought he, to fall in love?”

“My friends,” resumed Bixiou, with a sentimental air, “there is a kind of man who, when he feels that he is in peril of falling in love, will snap his fingers or fling away his cigar (as the case may be) with a ‘Pooh! there are other women in the world.’  Beware of that man for a dangerous reptile.  Still, the Government may employ that citizen somewhere in the Foreign Office.  Blondet, I call your attention to the fact that this Godefroid had thrown up diplomacy.”

“Well, he was absorbed,” said Blondet.  “Love gives the fool his one chance of growing great.”

“Blondet, Blondet, how is it that we are so poor?” cried Bixiou.

“And why is Finot so rich?” returned Blondet.  “I will tell you how it is; there, my son, we understand each other.  Come, there is Finot filling up my glass as if I had carried in his firewood.  At the end of dinner one ought to sip one’s wine slowly,—­Well?”