the start, public opinion, thus carried by storm, begot three successes, three fortunes, and proved the advance guard of that invasion of ambitious schemes which since have poured their crowded battalions into the arena of journalism, for which they have created—­oh, mighty revolution!—­the paid advertisement.  The name of A. Popinot and Company now flaunted on all the walls and all the shop-fronts.  Incapable of perceiving the full bearing of such publicity, Birotteau merely said to his daughter,—­

“Little Popinot is following in my steps.”

He did not understand the difference of the times, nor appreciate the power of the novel methods of execution, whose rapidity and extent took in, far more promptly than ever before, the whole commercial universe.  Birotteau had not set foot in his manufactory since the ball; he knew nothing therefore of the energy and enterprise displayed by Popinot.  Anselme had engaged all Cesar’s workmen, and often slept himself on the premises.  His fancy pictured Cesarine sitting on the cases, and hovering over the shipments; her name seemed printed on the bills; and as he worked with his coat off, and his shirt-sleeves rolled up, courageously nailing up the cases himself, in default of the necessary clerks, he said in his heart, “She shall be mine!”

* * * * *

The following day Cesar went to Francois Keller’s house in Rue du Houssaye, having spent the night turning over in his mind what he ought to say, or ought not to say, to a leading man in banking circles.  Horrible palpitations of the heart assailed him as he approached the house of the Liberal banker, who belonged to a party accused, with good reason, of seeking the overthrow of the restored Bourbons.  The perfumer, like all the lesser tradesmen of Paris, was ignorant of the habits and customs of the upper banking circles.  Between the higher walks of finance and ordinary commerce, there is in Paris a class of secondary houses, useful intermediaries for banking interests, which find in them an additional security.  Constance and Birotteau, who had never gone beyond their means, whose purse had never run dry, and who kept their moneys in their own possession, had so far never needed the services of these intermediary houses; they were therefore unknown in the higher regions of a bank.  Perhaps it is a mistake not to take out credits, even if we do not need them.  Opinions vary on this point.  However that may be, Birotteau now deeply regretted that his signature was unknown.  Still, as deputy-mayor, and therefore known in politics, he thought he had only to present his name and be admitted:  he was quite ignorant of the ceremonial, half regal, which attended an audience with Francois Keller.  He was shown into a salon which adjoined the study of the celebrated banker, —­celebrated in various ways.  Birotteau found himself among a numerous company of deputies, writers, journalists, stock-brokers, merchants of the upper grades, agents, engineers, and above all satellites, or henchmen, who passed from group to group, and knocked in a peculiar manner at the door of the study, which they were, as it seemed, privileged to enter.