There　was　a　fiery　energy　in　her　movements；　the　Marquis　de
  Ronquerolles　had　called　her　〃a　thoroughbred；〃　〃a　pure　pedigree；〃
  these　figures　of　speech　have　replaced　the　〃heavenly　angel〃　and
  Ossianic　nomenclature；　the　old　mythology　of　love　is　extinct；
  doomed　to　perish　by　modern　dandyism。　But　for　Rastignac；　Mme。
  Anastasie　de　Restaud　was　the　woman　for　whom　he　had　sighed。　He　had
  contrived　to　write　his　name　twice　upon　the　list　of　partners　upon
  her　fan；　and　had　snatched　a　few　words　with　her　during　the　first
  quadrille。
  〃Where　shall　I　meet　you　again；　Madame？〃　he　asked　abruptly；　and
  the　tones　of　his　voice　were　full　of　the　vehement　energy　that
  women　like　so　well。
  〃Oh；　everywhere！〃　said　she；　〃in　the　Bois；　at　the　Bouffons；　in　my
  own　house。〃
  With　the　impetuosity　of　his　adventurous　southern　temper；　he　did
  all　he　could　to　cultivate　an　acquaintance　with　this　lovely
  countess；　making　the　best　of　his　opportunities　in　the　quadrille
  and　during　a　waltz　that　she　gave　him。　When　he　told　her　that　he
  was　a　cousin　of　Mme。　de　Beauseant's；　the　Countess；　whom　he　took
  for　a　great　lady；　asked　him　to　call　at　her　house；　and　after　her
  parting　smile；　Rastignac　felt　convinced　that　he　must　make　this
  visit。　He　was　so　lucky　as　to　light　upon　some　one　who　did　not
  laugh　at　his　ignorance；　a　fatal　defect　among　the　gilded　and
  insolent　youth　of　that　period；　the　coterie　of　Maulincourts；
  Maximes　de　Trailles；　de　Marsays；　Ronquerolles；　Ajuda…Pintos；　and
  Vandenesses　who　shone　there　in　all　the　glory　of　coxcombry　among
  the　best…dressed　women　of　fashion　in　ParisLady　Brandon；　the
  Duchesse　de　Langeais；　the　Comtesse　de　Kergarouet；　Mme。　de　Serizy；
  the　Duchesse　de　Carigliano；　the　Comtesse　Ferraud；　Mme。　de　Lanty；
  the　Marquise　d'Aiglemont；　Mme。　Firmiani；　the　Marquise　de
  Listomere　and　the　Marquise　d'Espard；　the　Duchesse　de　Maufrigneuse
  and　the　Grandlieus。　Luckily；　therefore；　for　him；　the　novice
  happened　upon　the　Marquis　de　Montriveau；　the　lover　of　the
  Duchesse　de　Langeais；　a　general　as　simple　as　a　child；　from　him
  Rastignac　learned　that　the　Comtesse　lived　in　the　Rue　du　Helder。
  Ah；　what　it　is　to　be　young；　eager　to　see　the　world；　greedily　on
  the　watch　for　any　chance　that　brings　you　nearer　the　woman　of　your
  dreams；　and　behold　two　houses　open　their　doors　to　you！　To　set
  foot　in　the　Vicomtesse　de　Beauseant's　house　in　the　Faubourg
  Saint…Germain；　to　fall　on　your　knees　before　a　Comtesse　de　Restaud
  in　the　Chaussee　d'Antin；　to　look　at　one　glance　across　a　vista　of
  Paris　drawing…rooms；　conscious　that；　possessing　sufficient　good
  looks；　you　may　hope　to　find　aid　and　protection　there　in　a
  feminine　heart！　To　feel　ambitious　enough　to　spurn　the　tight…rope
  on　which　you　must　walk　with　the　steady　head　of　an　acrobat　for
  whom　a　fall　is　impossible；　and　to　find　in　a　charming　woman　the
  best　of　all　balancing　poles。
  He　sat　there　with　his　thoughts　for　a　while；　Law　on　the　one　hand；
  and　Poverty　on　the　other；　beholding　a　radiant　vision　of　a　woman
  rise　above　the　dull；　smouldering　fire。　Who　would　not　have　paused
  and　questioned　the　future　as　Eugene　was　doing？　who　would　not　have
  pictured　it　full　of　success？　His　wondering　thoughts　took　wings；
  he　was　transported　out　of　the　present　into　that　blissful　future；
  he　was　sitting　by　Mme。　de　Restaud's　side；　when　a　sort　of　sigh；
  like　the　grunt　of　an　overburdened　St。　Joseph；　broke　the　silence
  of　the　night。　It　vibrated　through　the　student；　who　took　the　sound
  for　a　death　groan。　He　opened　his　door　noiselessly；　went　out　upon
  the　landing；　and　saw　a　thin　streak　of　light　under　Father　Goriot's
  door。　Eugene　feared　that　his　neighbor　had　been　taken　ill；　he　went
  over　and　looked　through　the　keyhole；　the　old　man　was　busily
  engaged　in　an　occupation　so　singular　and　so　suspicious　that
  Rastignac　thought　he　was　only　doing　a　piece　of　necessary　service
  to　society　to　watch　the　self…styled　vermicelli　maker's　nocturnal
  industries。
  The　table　was　upturned；　and　Goriot　had　doubtless　in　some　way
  secured　a　silver　plate　and　cup　to　the　bar　before　knotting　a　thick
  rope　round　them；　he　was　pulling　at　this　rope　with　such　enormous
  force　that　they　were　being　crushed　and　twisted　out　of　shape；　to
  all　appearance　he　meant　to　convert　the　richly　wrought　metal　into
  ingots。
  〃Peste！　what　a　man！〃　said　Rastignac；　as　he　watched　Goriot's
  muscular　arms；　there　was　not　a　sound　in　the　room　while　the　old
  man；　with　the　aid　of　the　rope；　was　kneading　the　silver　like
  dough。　〃Was　he　then；　indeed；　a　thief；　or　a　receiver　of　stolen
  goods；　who　affected　imbecility　and　decrepitude；　and　lived　like　a
  beggar　that　he　might　carry　on　his　pursuits　the　more　securely？〃
  Eugene　stood　for　a　moment　revolving　these　questions；　then　he
  looked　again　through　the　keyhole。
  Father　Goriot　had　unwound　his　coil　of　rope；　he　had　covered　the
  table　with　a　blanket；　and　was　now　employed　in　rolling　the
  flattened　mass　of　silver　into　a　bar；　an　operation　which　he
  performed　with　marvelous　dexterity。
  〃Why；　he　must　be　as　strong　as　Augustus；　King　of　Poland！〃　said
  Eugene　to　himself　when　the　bar　was　nearly　finished。
  Father　Goriot　looked　sadly　at　his　handiwork；　tears　fell　from　his
  eyes；　he　blew　out　the　dip　which　had　served　him　for　a　light　while
  he　manipulated　the　silver；　and　Eugene　heard　him　sigh　as　he　lay
  down　again。
  〃He　is　mad；〃　thought　the　student。
  〃Poor　child！〃　Father　Goriot　said　aloud。　Rastignac；　hearing　those
  words；　concluded　to　keep　silence；　he　would　not　hastily　condemn
  his　neighbor。　He　was　just　in　the　doorway　of　his　room　when　a
  strange　sound　from　the　staircase　below　reached　his　ears；　it　might
  have　been　made　by　two　men　coming　up　in　list　slippers。　Eugene
  listened；　two　men　there　certainly　were；　he　could　hear　their
  breathing。　Yet　there　had　been　no　sound　of　opening　the　street
  door；　no　footsteps　in　the　passage。　Suddenly；　too；　he　saw　a　faint
  gleam　of　light　on　the　second　story；　it　came　from　M。　Vautrin's
  room。
  〃There　are　a　good　many　mysteries　here　for　a　lodging…house！〃　he
  said　to　himself。
  He　went　part　of　the　way　downstairs　and　listened　again。　The　rattle
  of　gold　reached　his　ears。　In　another　moment　the　light　was　put
  out；　and　again　he　distinctly　heard　the　breathing　of　two　men；　but
  no　sound　of　a　door　being　opened　or　shut。　The　two　men　went
  downstairs；　the　faint　sounds　growing　fainter　as　they　went。
  〃Who　is　there？〃　cried　Mme。　Vauquer　out　of　her　bedroom　window。
  〃I；　Mme。　Vauquer；〃　answered　Vautrin's　deep　bass　voice。　〃I　am
  coming　in。〃
  〃That　is　odd！　Christophe　drew　the　bolts；〃　said　Eugene；　going　back
  to　his　room。　〃You　have　to　sit　up　at　night；　it　seems；　if　you
  really　mean　to　know　all　that　is　going　on　about　you　in　Paris。〃
  These　incidents　turned　his　thought　from　his　ambitious　dreams；　he
  betook　himself　to　his　work；　but　his　thought　wandered　back　to
  Father　Goriot's　suspicious　occupation；　Mme。　de　Restaud's　face
  swam　again　and　again　before　his　eyes　like　a　vision　of　a　brilliant
  future；　and　at　last　he　lay　down　and　slept　with　clenched　fists。
  When　a　young　man　makes　up　his　mind　that　he　will　work　all　night；
  the　chances　are　that　seven　times　out　of　ten　he　will　sleep　till
  morning。　Such　vigils　do　not　begin　before　we　are　turned　twenty。
  The　next　morning　Paris　was　wrapped　in　one　of　the　dense　fogs　that
  throw　the　most　punctual　people　out　in　their　calculations　as　to
  the　time；　even　the　most　business…like　folk　fail　to　keep　their
  appointments　in　such　weather；　and　ordinary　mortals　wake　up　at
  noon　and　fancy　it　is　eight　o'clock。　On　this　morning　it　was　half…
  past　nine；　and　Mme。　Vauquer　still　lay　abed。　Christophe　was　late；
  Sylvie　was　late；　but　the　two　sat　comfortably　taking　their　coffee
  as　usual。　It　was　Sylvie's　custom　to　take　the　cream　off　the　milk
  destined　for　the　boarders'　breakfast　for　her　own；　and　to　boil　the
  remainder　for　some　time；　so　that　madame　should　not　discover　this
  illegal　exaction。
  〃Sylvie；〃　said　Christophe；　as　he　dipped　a　piece　of　toast　into　the
  coffee；　〃M。　Vautrin；　who　is　not　such　a　bad　sort；　all　the　same；
  had　two　people　come　to　see　him　again　last　night。　If　madame　says
  anything；　mind　you　say　nothing　about　it。〃
  〃Has　he　given　you　something？〃
  〃He　gave　me　a　five…franc　piece　this　month；　which　is　as　good　as
  saying；　'Hold　your　tongue。'　〃
  〃Except　him　and　Mme。　Couture；　who　doesn't　look　twice　at　every
  penny；　there's　no　one　in　the　house　that　doesn't　try　to　get　back
  with　the　left　hand　all　that　they　give　with　the　right　at　New
  Year；〃　said　Sylvie。
  〃And；　after　all；〃　said　Christophe；　〃what　do　they　give　you？　A
  miserable　five…franc　piece。　There　is　Father　Goriot；　who　has
  cleaned　his　shoes　himself　these　two　years　past。　There　is　that　old
  beggar　Poiret；　who　goes　without　blacking　altogether；　he　would
  sooner　drink　it　than　put　it　on　his　boots。　Then　there　is　that
  whipper…snapper　of　a　student；　who　gives　me　a　couple　of　francs；
  Two　francs　will　not　pay　for　my　brushes；　and　he　sells　his　old
  clothes；　and　gets　more　for　them　than　they　are　worth。　Oh！　they're
  a　shabby　lot！〃
  〃Pooh！〃　said　Sylvie；　sipping　her　coffee；　〃our　places　are　th