Gentil and Albertine waited upon them, and while they were present Lucien could not complain.  The dinner, sent in from a neighboring restaurant, fell far below the provincial average, both in quantity and quality; the essential goodness of country fare was wanting, and in point of quantity the portions were cut with so strict an eye to business that they savored of short commons.  In such small matters Paris does not show its best side to travelers of moderate fortune.  Lucien waited till the meal was over.  Some change had come over Louise, he thought, but he could not explain it.

And a change had, in fact, taken place.  Events had occurred while he slept; for reflection is an event in our inner history, and Mme. de Bargeton had been reflecting.

About two o’clock that afternoon, Sixte du Chatelet made his appearance in the Rue de l’Echelle and asked for Albertine.  The sleeping damsel was roused, and to her he expressed his wish to speak with her mistress.  Mme. de Bargeton had scarcely time to dress before he came back again.  The unaccountable apparition of M. du Chatelet roused the lady’s curiosity, for she had kept her journey a profound secret, as she thought.  At three o’clock the visitor was admitted.

“I have risked a reprimand from headquarters to follow you,” he said, as he greeted her; “I foresaw coming events.  But if I lose my post for it, you, at any rate, shall not be lost.”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed Mme. de Bargeton.

“I can see plainly that you love Lucien,” he continued, with an air of tender resignation.  “You must love indeed if you can act thus recklessly, and disregard the conventions which you know so well.  Dear adored Nais, can you really imagine that Mme. d’Espard’s salon, or any other salon in Paris, will not be closed to you as soon as it is known that you have fled from Angouleme, as it were, with a young man, especially after the duel between M. de Bargeton and M. de Chandour?  The fact that your husband has gone to the Escarbas looks like a separation.  Under such circumstances a gentleman fights first and afterwards leaves his wife at liberty.  By all means, give M. de Rubempre your love and your countenance; do just as you please; but you must not live in the same house.  If anybody here in Paris knew that you had traveled together, the whole world that you have a mind to see would point the finger at you.

“And, Nais, do not make these sacrifices for a young man whom you have as yet compared with no one else; he, on his side, has been put to no proof; he may forsake you for some Parisienne, better able, as he may fancy, to further his ambitions.  I mean no harm to the man you love, but you will permit me to put your own interests before his, and to beg you to study him, to be fully aware of the serious nature of this step that you are taking.  And, then, if you find all doors closed against you, and that none of the women call upon you, make sure at least that you will feel no regret for all that you have renounced for him.  Be very certain first that he for whom you will have given up so much will always be worthy of your sacrifices and appreciate them.