An hour later, Blondet, Lousteau, and Lucien came back to the drawing-room, where the other guests were chatting.  The Duke was there and the Minister, the four women, the three merchants, the manager, and Finot.  A printer’s devil, with a paper cap on his head, was waiting even then for copy.

“The men are just going off, if I have nothing to take them,” he said.

“Stay a bit, here are ten francs, and tell them to wait,” said Finot.

“If I give them the money, sir, they would take to tippleography, and good-night to the newspaper.”

“That boy’s common-sense is appalling to me,” remarked Finot; and the Minister was in the middle of a prediction of a brilliant future for the urchin, when the three came in.  Blondet read aloud an extremely clever article against the Romantics; Lousteau’s paragraph drew laughter, and by the Duc de Rhetore’s advice an indirect eulogium of Mme. d’Espard was slipped in, lest the whole Faubourg Saint-Germain should take offence.

“What have you written?” asked Finot, turning to Lucien.

And Lucien read, quaking for fear, but the room rang with applause when he finished; the actresses embraced the neophyte; and the two merchants, following suit, half choked the breath out of him.  There were tears in du Bruel’s eyes as he grasped his critic’s hand, and the manager invited him to dinner.

“There are no children nowadays,” said Blondet.  “Since M. de Chateaubriand called Victor Hugo a ‘sublime child,’ I can only tell you quite simply that you have spirit and taste, and write like a gentleman.”

“He is on the newspaper,” said Finot, as he thanked Etienne, and gave him a shrewd glance.

“What jokes have you made?” inquired Lousteau, turning to Blondet and du Bruel.

“Here are du Bruel’s,” said Nathan.

  *** “Now, that M. le Vicomte d’A——­ is attracting so much
  attention, they will perhaps let me alone,” M. le Vicomte
  Demosthenes was heard to say yesterday.

*** An Ultra, condemning M. Pasquier’s speech, said his programme was only a continuation of Decaze’s policy.  “Yes,” said a lady, “but he stands on a Monarchical basis, he has just the kind of leg for a Court suit.”

“With such a beginning, I don’t ask more of you,” said Finot; “it will be all right.—­Run round with this,” he added, turning to the boy; “the paper is not exactly a genuine article, but it is our best number yet,” and he turned to the group of writers.  Already Lucien’s colleagues were privately taking his measure.

“That fellow has brains,” said Blondet.

“His article is well written,” said Claude Vignon.

“Supper!” cried Matifat.

The Duke gave his arm to Florine, Coralie went across to Lucien, and
Tullia went in to supper between Emile Blondet and the German
Minister.

“I cannot understand why you are making an onslaught on Mme. de Bargeton and the Baron du Chatelet; they say that he is prefect-designate of the Charente, and will be Master of Requests some day.”