“It is their way of playing truant,” put in Blondet.

“Of course they went over the new house,” resumed Bixiou.  “Married women relish these little expeditions as ogres relish warm flesh; they feel young again with the young bliss, unspoiled as yet by fruition.  Breakfast was served in Godefroid’s sitting-room, decked out like a troop horse for a farewell to bachelor life.  There were dainty little dishes such as women love to devour, nibble at, and sip of a morning, when they are usually alarmingly hungry and horribly afraid to confess to it.  It would seem that a woman compromises herself by admitting that she is hungry.—­’Why have you come alone?’ inquired Godefroid when Rastignac appeared.—­’Mme. de Nucingen is out of spirits; I will tell you all about it,’ answered Rastignac, with the air of a man whose temper has been tried.—­’A quarrel?’ hazarded Godefroid.—­’No.’  —­At four o’clock the women took flight for the Bois de Boulogne; Rastignac stayed in the room and looked out of the window, fixing his melancholy gaze upon Toby Joby Paddy, who stood, his arms crossed in Napoleonic fashion, audaciously posted in front of Beaudenord’s cab horse.  The child could only control the animal with his shrill little voice, but the horse was afraid of Joby Toby.

“‘Well,’ began Godefroid, ’what is the matter with you, my dear fellow?  You look gloomy and anxious; your gaiety is forced.  You are tormented by incomplete happiness.  It is wretched, and that is a fact, when one cannot marry the woman one loves at the mayor’s office and the church.’

“’Have you courage to hear what I have to say?  I wonder whether you will see how much a man must be attached to a friend if he can be guilty of such a breach of confidence as this for his sake.’

“Something in Rastignac’s voice stung like a lash of a whip.

“‘What?’ asked Godefroid de Beaudenord, turning pale.

“’I was unhappy over your joy; I had not the heart to keep such a secret to myself when I saw all these preparations, your happiness in bloom.’

“‘Just say it out in three words!’

“’Swear to me on your honor that you will be as silent as the grave——­’

“‘As the grave,’ repeated Beaudenord.

“’That if one of your relatives were concerned in this secret, he should not know it.’

“‘No.’

“’Very well.  Nucingen started to-night for Brussels.  He must file his schedule if he cannot arrange a settlement.  This very morning Delphine petitioned for the separation of her estate.  You may still save your fortune.’

“‘How?’ faltered Godefroid; the blood turned to ice in his veins.

“’Simply write to the Baron de Nucingen, antedating your letter a fortnight, and instruct him to invest all your capital in shares.’  —­Rastignac suggested Claparon and Company, and continued—­’You have a fortnight, a month, possibly three months, in which to realize and make something; the shares are still going up——­’