LIBRARY^ 
 
 SAN DIEGO J
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO 
 
 3 1822 025615659 ^ 
 
 AV5
 
 H. DE BALZAC 
 
 COMEDIE HUMAINE 
 
 Edited ty 
 GEORGE SAINTSBURY
 
 All rights reseived
 
 H. DE BALZAC 
 
 EUGENIE GRANDET 
 
 Tramlated by 
 
 ELLEN MARRIAGE 
 
 lukh a Preface by 
 
 GEORGE SAINTSBURY 
 
 ^ 
 
 LONDON 
 J. M. DENT AND CO. 
 
 NEW YORK*. MACMILLAN &- CO. 
 MDCCCXC V
 
 Edinburgh: T. and A. Constable, Printers, to Her Majesty
 
 LIST OF ETCHINGS 
 
 NANON WAS MILKING THE COW .... Frontispiece 
 
 rAGi 
 
 THE DOOR STOOD AJAR; SHE THRUST IT OPEN , . IZy 
 
 ' DO YOU HEAR WHAT I SAY ? GO ! ' . . . . I74. 
 
 Drawn and Etched by D. Murray Smith.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 With Eugénie Grandet^ as with one or two, but only 
 one or two others of Balzac's works, we come to a case 
 of ^uis vituperavit ? Here, and perhaps here only, with 
 Le Médecin de Campagne and Le P}re Goriot^ though 
 there may be carpers and depreciators, there are no 
 open deniers of the merit of the work. The pathos 
 of Eugénie, the mastery of Grandet, the success of the 
 minor characters, especially Nanon, are universally 
 recognised. The importance of the work has some- 
 times been slightly questioned even by those who admit 
 its beauty : but this questioning can only support itself 
 on the unavowed but frequently present conviction or 
 suspicion that a ' good ' or ' goody ' book must be a 
 weak one. As a matter of fact, no book can be, or can 
 be asked to be, better than perfect on its own scheme, 
 and with its own conditions. And on its own scheme 
 and with its own conditions Eugénie Grandet is very 
 nearly perfect. 
 
 On the character of the heroine will turn the final 
 decision whether, as has been said by some (I believe I 
 might be charged with having said it myself), Balzac's 
 virtuous characters are always more theatrical than real. 
 The decision must take in the Benassis of Le Médecin 
 de Campagne^ but with him it will have less difficulty ;
 
 VIU 
 
 Preface 
 
 for Benassis, despite the beauty and pathos of his con- 
 fession, is a little ' a person of the boards ' in his unfailingly 
 providential character and his complete devotion to 
 others. Must Eugénie, his feminine companion in 
 goodness, be put on these boards likewise ? 
 
 I admit that of late years, and more particularly since 
 the undertaicing of this present task made necessary to 
 me a more complete and methodical study of the vv^hole 
 w^orks, including the most miscellaneous miscellanies, 
 than I had previously given, my estimate of Balzac's 
 goodness has gone up very much — that of his greatness 
 had no need of raising. But I still think that even 
 about Eugénie there is a very little unreality, a slight 
 touch of that ignorance of the actual nature of girls 
 w^hich even fervent admirers of French novelists in 
 general, and of Balzac in particular, have confessed to 
 finding in them and him. That Eugénie should be 
 entirely subjugated first by the splendour, and then by 
 the misfortune, of her Parisian cousin, is not in the least 
 unnatural ; nor do I for one moment pretend to deny the 
 possibility or the likelihood of her having 
 
 ' lifted up her eyes, 
 And loved him with that love which was her doom.' 
 
 It is also difficult to make too much allowance for the 
 fatal effect of an education under an insignificant if 
 amiable mother and a tyrannical father, and of a con- 
 finement to an excessively small circle of extremely 
 provincial society, on a disposition of more nobility than 
 intellectual height or range. Still it must, I think, be 
 permitted to the advocatus diaholi to urge that Eugenie's 
 martyrdom is almost too thorough ; that though complete,
 
 Preface 
 
 IX 
 
 it is not, as Gautier said of his own ill luck, ^ artistement 
 complet * ; that though it may be difficult to put the finger on 
 any special blot, to say, ' Here the girl should have revolted,' 
 or ' Here she w^ould have behaved in some other way 
 differently'; still there is a vague sense of incomplete 
 lifelikeness — of that tendency to mirage and exaggeration 
 which has been, and will be, so often noticed. 
 
 Still it is vague and not unpleasantly obtrusive, and in 
 all other ways Eugénie is a triumph. It is noticeable that 
 her creator has dwelt on the actual traits of her face 
 with much more distinctness than is usual with him ; for 
 Balzac's extraordinary minuteness in many ways does 
 not invariably extend to physical charms. This minute- 
 ness is indeed so great that one has a certain suspicion of 
 the head being taken from a live and special original. 
 Nor is her physical presence — abominably libelled, there is 
 no doubt, by Mme. des Grassins — the only distinct thing 
 about Eugénie. We see her hovering about the beau 
 cousin with an innocent officiousness capable of commit- 
 ting no less the major crime of lending him money than 
 the minor, but even more audacious, because open, one of 
 letting him have sugar. She is perfectly natural in the 
 courage with which she bears her father's unjust rage, 
 and in the forgiveness which, quite as a matter of 
 course, she extends to him after he has broken her own 
 peace and her mother's heart. It is perhaps necessary to 
 be French to comprehend entirely why she could not 
 heap that magnificent pile of coals of fire on her unworthy 
 cousin's head without flinging herself and her seventeen 
 millions into the arms of somebody else ; but the thing 
 can be accepted if not quite understood. And the whole 
 transaction of this heaping is admirable. 
 
 b
 
 X Preface 
 
 If the criticism be not thought something of a super- 
 subtlety, it may perhaps be suggested that the inferiority 
 which has generally been acknowledged in the lover is a 
 confession or indication that there is something very 
 slightly wrong with the scheme of Eugénie herself — 
 that if she had been absolutely natural, it would not have 
 been necessary to make Charles not merely a thankless 
 brute, but a heedless fool. However great a scoundrel 
 the ex-slave-trader may have been (and as presented to us 
 earlier he does not seem so much scoundrelly as shallow), 
 his respectable occupation must have made him a smart 
 man of business ; and as such, before burning his boats 
 by such a letter as he writes, he might surely have found 
 out how the land lay. But this does not matter much. 
 
 Nanon is, of course, quite excellent. She is not stupid, 
 as her kind are supposed to be ; she is only blindly 
 faithful, as well as thoroughly good-hearted. Nor is the 
 unfortunate Madame Grandet an idiot, nor are any of 
 the comparses mere dummies. But naturally they all, 
 even Eugénie herself to some extent, serve mainly as sets- 
 off to the terrible Grandet. In him Balzac, a French- 
 man of Frenchmen, has boldly depicted perhaps the worst 
 and the commonest vice of the French character, the 
 vice which is more common, and certainly worse than 
 either the frivolity or the license with which the nation 
 is usually charged — the pushing, to wit, of thrift to the 
 loathsome excess of an inhuman avarice. But he has 
 justified himself to his country by communicating to his 
 hero an unquestioned grandeur. The mirage works 
 again, but it works with splendid effect. One need not 
 be a sentimentalist to shudder a little at the ta ta ta ta 
 of Grandet, the refrain of a money-grubbing which
 
 Preface 
 
 XI 
 
 almost escapes greediness by its diabolic extravagance and 
 success. 
 
 The bibliography of the book is not complicated. 
 Balzac tried the first chapter (there were originally 
 seven) in U Europe Littéraire for September 19, 1833; 
 but he did not continue it there, and it appeared com- 
 plete in the first volume of Scenes de la Vie de Province next 
 year. Charpentier republished it in a single volume in 
 1839. The Comédie engulfed it in 1843, ^^ chapter 
 divisions then disappearing. 
 
 G.S.
 
 EUGÉNIE GRANDET 
 
 To Maria. 
 
 T'our portrait is the fairest ornament of this book^ 
 and here it is fitting that your name should be set^ 
 like the branch of box taken from so?ne unknown 
 garden to lie for a while in the holy water ^ and 
 afterwards set by pious hands above the threshold^ 
 where the green spray^ ever renewed^ is a sacred 
 talisman to ward off all evil from the house. 
 
 In some country towns there are houses more degr essin 
 to the sight than the dimmest cloister, the most'melan 
 choly ruins, or the dreariest stretch of sandy waste. "- 
 Perhaps such houses as these combine the characteristics 
 of all the three, and to the dumb silence of the monastery 
 they unite the gauntness and grimness of the ruin, and 
 the arid desolation of the waste. So little sign is there 
 of life or of movement about them, that a stranger 
 might take them for uninhabited dwellings ; but the 
 sound of an unfamiliar footstep brings some one to the 
 window, a passive face suddenly appears above the sill, 
 and the traveller receives a listless and indifferent glance 
 — it is almost as if a monk leaned out to look for a^ 
 moment on the world. 
 
 There is one particular house front in Saumur which 
 possesses all these melancholy characteristics ; the house 
 is still standing at the end of the steep street which leads 
 
 A
 
 2 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 to the castle, at the upper end of the town. The street 
 is very quiet nowadays ; it is hot in summer and cold 
 in winter, and very dark in places ; besides this, it is 
 remarkably narrow and crooked, there is a peculiarly 
 formal and sedate air about its houses, and it is curious 
 how every sound reverberates through it — the cobble 
 stones (always clean and dry) ring with every passing 
 footfall. 
 
 This is the oldest part of the town, the ramparts rise 
 immediately above it. The houses of the quarter have 
 stood for three centuries ; and albeit they are built of 
 wood, they are strong and sound yet. Each house has 
 a certain character of its own, so that for the artist and 
 antiquary this is the most attractive part of the town of 
 Saumur. Indeed, it would hardly be possible to go past 
 the houses without a wondering glance at the grotesque 
 figures carved on the projecting ends of the huge beams, 
 set like a black bas-relief above the ground floor of 
 almost every dwelling. Sometimes, where these beams 
 have been protected from the weather by slates, a strip 
 of dull blue runs across the crumbling walls, and crown- 
 ing the whole is a high-pitched roof oddly curved and 
 bent with age ; the shingle boards that cover it are all 
 warped and twisted by the alternate sun and rain of 
 many a year. There are bits of delicate carving too, 
 here and there, though you can scarcely make them out, 
 on the worn and blackened window sills that seem 
 scarcely strong enough to bear the weight of the red 
 flower-pot in which some poor workwoman has set her 
 tree carnation or her monthly rose. 
 
 Still further along the street there are more pretentious 
 house doors studded with huge nails. On these our 
 forefathers exercised their ingenuity, tracing hieroglyphs 
 and mysterious signs which were once understood in 
 every household, but all clues to their meaning are 
 forgotten now — they will be understood no more of any 
 mortal. In such wise would a Protestant make his pro-
 
 Eugénie Grandet 3 
 
 fession of faith, there also would a Leaguer curse Henry 
 IV. in graven symbols. A burgher would commemorate 
 his civic dignities, the glory of his long-forgotten tenure 
 of office as alderman or sheriff. On those old 
 houses, if we could but read it, the history of France is 
 chronicled. 
 
 Beside the rickety little tenement built of wood, with 
 masonry of the roughest, upon the wall of which the 
 craftsman has set the glorified image of his trade — his 
 plane — stands the mansion of some noble, with its 
 massive round arched gateway ; you can still see some 
 traces above it of the arms borne by the owner, though 
 they have been torn down in one of the many revolutions 
 which have convulsed the country since 178g. 
 
 You will find no imposing shop windows in the 
 street ; strictly speaking indeed, there are no shops at 
 all, for the rooms on the ground floor in which articles 
 are exposed for sale are neither more nor less than the 
 workshops of the times of our forefathers ; lovers of 
 the Middle Ages will find here the primitive simplicity 
 of an older world. The low-ceiled rooms are dark, 
 cavernous, and guiltless alike of plate glass windows or 
 of show cases ; there is no attempt at decoration either 
 within or without, no effort is made to display the wares. 
 The door as a rule is heavily barred with iron and 
 divided into two parts ; the upper half is thrown back 
 during the day, admitting fresh air and daylight into the 
 damp little cave ; while the lower portion, to which a 
 bell is attached, is seldom still. The shop front consists 
 of a low wall of about elbow height, which fills half the 
 space between floor and ceiling ; there is no window 
 sash, but heavy shutters fastened with iron bolts fit into 
 a groove in the top of the wall, and are set up at night 
 and taken down in the morning. The same wall serves 
 as a counter on which to set out goods for the customer's 
 inspection. There is no sort of charlatanism about the 
 proceeding. The samples submitted to the public vary
 
 4 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 according to the nature of the trade. You behold a keg 
 or two of salt or of salted fish, two or three bales of sail- 
 cloth or coils of rope, some copper wire hanging from 
 the rafters, a few cooper's hoops on the walls, or a length 
 or two of cloth upon the shelves. 
 
 You go in. A neat and tidy damsel with a pair of 
 bare red arms, the fresh good looks of youth, and a white 
 handkerchief pinned about her throat, lays down her 
 knitting and goes to summon a father or mother, who 
 appears and sells goods to you as you desire, be it a 
 matter of two sous or of twenty thousand francs ; the 
 manner of the transaction varying as the humour of the 
 vendor is surly, obliging or independent. You will see 
 a dealer in barrel-staves sitting in his doorway, twirling 
 his thumbs as he chats with a neighbour ; judging from 
 appearances, he might possess nothing in this world but 
 the bottles on his few rickety shelves, and two or three 
 bundles of laths ; but his well-stocked timber yard on 
 the quay supplies all the coopers in Anjou, he knows 
 to a barrel-stave how many casks he can ' turn out,' as 
 he says, if the vines do well and the vintage is good ; a 
 few scorching days and his fortune is made, a rainy 
 summer is a ruinous thing for him ; in a single morn- 
 ing the price of puncheons will rise as high as eleven 
 francs or drop to six. 
 
 Here, as in Touraine, the whole trade of the district 
 depends upon an atmospherical depression. Landowners, 
 vinegrowers, timber merchants, coopers, innkeepers, and 
 lightermen, one and all are on the watch for a ray of 
 sunlight. Not a man of them but goes to bed in fear 
 and trembling lest he should hear in the morning that 
 there has been a frost in the night. If it is not rain that 
 they dread, it is wind or drought ; they must have cloudy 
 weather or heat, and the rainfall and the weather generally 
 all arranged to suit their peculiar notions. 
 
 Between the clerk of the weather and the vine-growing 
 interest there is a duel which never ceases. Faces visibly
 
 Eugénie Grandet 5 
 
 lengthen or shorten, grow bright or gloomy, with the 
 ups and downs of the barometer. Sometimes you hear 
 from one end to the other of the old High Street of 
 Saumur the words, ' This is golden weather ! ' or again, 
 in language which likewise is no mere figure of speech, 
 ' It is raining gold louis ! ' and they all know the exact 
 value of sun or rain at the right moment. 
 
 After twelve o'clock or so on a Saturday in the summer 
 time, you will not do a pennyworth of business among 
 the worthy townsmen of Saumur. Each has his little 
 farm and his bit of vineyard, and goes to spend the 
 ' week end ' in the country. As everybody knows this 
 beforehand, just as everybody knows everybody else's 
 business, his goings and comings, his buyings and sellings, 
 and profits to boot, the good folk are free to spend ten 
 hours out of the twelve in making up pleasant little parties, 
 in taking notes and making comments, and keeping a 
 sharp look-out on their neighbours' aiFairs. The mistress 
 of a house cannot buy a partridge but the neighbours 
 will inquire of her husband whether the bird was done to 
 a turn ; no damsel can put her head out of the window 
 without being observed by every group of unoccupied 
 observers. 
 
 Impenetrable, dark, and silent as the houses may seem, 
 they contain no mysteries hidden from public scrutiny, 
 and in the same way every one knows what is passing in 
 every one else's mind. To begin with, the good folk 
 spend most of their lives out of doors, they sit on the steps 
 of their houses, breakfast there and dine there, and adjust 
 any little family differences in the doorway. Every 
 passer-by is scanned with the most minute and diligent 
 attention ; hence, any stranger who may happen to arrive 
 in such a country town has, in a manner, to run the 
 gauntlet, and is severely quizzed from every doorstep. 
 By dint of perseverance in the methods thus indicated a 
 quantity of droll stories may be collected ; and, indeed, 
 the people of Angers, who are of an ingenious turn, and
 
 6 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 quick at repartee, have been nicknamed ' the tattlers ' on 
 these very grounds. 
 
 The largest houses of the old quarter in vv^hich the 
 nobles once dwelt are all at the upper end of the street, 
 and in one of these the events took place w^hich are about 
 to be narrated in the course of this story. As has been 
 already said, it was a melancholy house, a venerable relic 
 of a bygone age, built for the men and women of an 
 older and simpler world, from which our modern France 
 is further and further removed day by dav. After you 
 have followed for some distance the windings of the 
 picturesque street, where memories of the past are called 
 up by every detail at every turn, till at length you fall 
 unconsciously to musing, you come upon a sufficiently 
 gloomy recess in which a doorway is dimly visible, the 
 door of A[. Grandet' s house. Of all the pride and 
 glory of proprietorship conveyed to the provincial mind 
 by those three words, it is impossible to give any idea, 
 except by giving the biography of the owner — M. 
 Grandet. 
 
 M. Grandet enjoyed a certain reputation in Saumur. 
 Its causes and effects can scarcely be properly estimated 
 by outsiders who have not lived in a country town for 
 a longer or shorter time. There were still old people 
 in existence who could remember former times, and 
 called M. Grandet ' Goodman Grandet,' but there were 
 not many of them left, and they were rapidly disappear- 
 ing year by year. 
 
 In 178g Grandet was a master cooper, in a very good 
 way of business, who could read and write and cast 
 accounts. When the French Republic, having confiscated 
 the lands of the Church in the district of Saumur, proceeded 
 to sell them by auction, the cooper was forty years of age, 
 and had just married the daughter of a wealthy timber 
 merchant. As Grandet possessed at that moment his 
 wife's dowry as well as some considerable amount of 
 ready money of his own, he repaired to the bureau of
 
 Eugénie Grandet 7 
 
 the district ; and making due allowance for two hundred 
 double louis offered by his father-in-law to that man of 
 stern morals, the Republican who conducted the sale, 
 the cooper acquired some of the best vineland in the 
 neighbourhood, an old abbey, and a few little farms, for 
 an old song, to all of which property, though it might be 
 ill-gotten, the law gave him a clear title. 
 
 There was little sympathy felt with the Revolution in 
 Saumur. Goodman Grandet was looked upon as a bold 
 spirit, a Republican, a patriot, an 'advanced thinker,' 
 and what not ; but all the ' thinking ' the cooper ever 
 did turned simply and solely on the subject of his vines. 
 He was nominated as a member of the administration of 
 the district of Saumur, and exercised a pacific influence 
 both in politics and in commerce. Politically, he be- 
 friended the ci-devants, and did all that he could to pre- 
 vent the sale of their property ; commercially, he con- 
 tracted to supply two thousand hogsheads of white wine 
 to the Republican armies, taking his payment for the 
 aforesaid hogsheads in the shape of certain broad acres of 
 rich meadow land belonging 'to a convent, the property 
 of the nuns having been reserved till the last. 
 
 In the days of the Consulate, Master Grandet became 
 mayor ; did prudently in his public capacity, and did 
 very well for himself. Times changed, the Empire was 
 established, and he became Monsieur Grandet. But M. 
 Grandet had been looked upon as a red Republican, and 
 Napoleon had no liking for Republicans, so the mayor 
 was replaced by a large landowner, a man with a de 
 before his name, and a prospect of one day becoming a 
 baron of the Empire. M. Grandet turned his back upon 
 municipal honours without a shadow of regret. He had 
 looked well after the interests of the town during his 
 term of office, excellent roads had been made, passing 
 in every case by his own domains. His house and land 
 had been assessed very moderately, the burden of the 
 taxes did not fall too grievously upon him, since the
 
 8 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 assessment moreover he had given ceaseless attention and 
 care to the cultivation of his vines, so that they had 
 become the tête du pays^ the technical term for those 
 vineyards v^'hich produce wine of the finest quality. He 
 had a fair claim to the Cross of the Legion of Honour, 
 and he received it in 1806. 
 
 By this time M. Grandet vs^as fifty-seven years old, and 
 his wife about thirty-gix. The one child of the marriage 
 was a daughter, a little girl ten years of age. Providence 
 doubtless sought to console M. Grandet for his official 
 downfall ; for in this year he succeeded to three fortunes, 
 the total value was matter for conjecture, no certain 
 information being forthcoming. The first fell in on the 
 death of Mme. de la Gaudinière, Mme. Grandet's mother; 
 the deceased lady had been a de la Bertellière, and her 
 father, old M. de la Bertellière, soon followed her ; the 
 third in order was Mme. Gentillet, M. Grandet's grand- 
 mother on the mother's side. Old M. de la Bertellière 
 used to call an investment 'throwing money away'; the 
 sight of his hoards of gold repaid him better than any 
 rate of interest upon it. The town of Saumur, therefore, 
 roughly calculated the value of the amount that the late 
 de la Bertellière was likely to have saved out of his 
 yearly takings ; and M. Grandet received a new distinc- 
 tion which none of our manias for equality can efface — 
 he paid more taxes than any one else in the country 
 round. 
 
 He now cultivated a hundred acres of vineyard ; in a good 
 year they would yield seven or eight hundred puncheons. 
 He had thirteen little farms, an old abbey (motives of 
 economy had led him to wall up the windows, and so 
 preserve the traceries and stained glass), and a hundred 
 and twenty-seven acres of grazing land, in which three 
 thousand poplars, planted in 1793, were growing taller 
 and larger every year. Finally, he owned the house in 
 which he lived. 
 
 In these visible ways his prosperity had increased. As
 
 Eugénie Grandet 9 
 
 to his capital, there were only two people in a position to 
 make a guess at its probable amount. One of these was 
 the notary, M. Cruchot, who transacted all the necessary 
 business whenever M. Grandet made an investment ; and 
 the other was M, des Grassins, the wealthiest banker in the 
 town, who did Grandet many good offices which were 
 unknown to Saumur. Secrets of this nature, involving: 
 extensive business transactions, are usually well kept ; but 
 the discreet caution of MM. Cruchot and des Grassins 
 did not prevent them from addressing M. Grandet in 
 public with such profound deference that close observers 
 might draw their own conclusions. Clearly the wealth 
 of their late mayor must be prodigious indeed that he 
 should receive such obsequious attention. 
 
 There was no one in Saumur who did not fully believe 
 the report which told how, in a secret hiding-place, M. 
 Grandet had a hoard of louis, and how every night he 
 went to look at it and gave himself up to the inexpres- 
 sible delight of gazing at the huge heap of gold. He 
 was not the only money-lover in Saumur. Sympathetic 
 observers looked at his eyes and felt that the story was 
 true, for they seemed to have the yellow metallic glitter 
 of the coin over which it was said they had brooded. 
 Nor was this the only sign. Certain small indefinable 
 habits, furtive movements, slight mysterious promptings 
 of greed did not escape the keen observation of fellow- 
 worshippers. There is something vulpine about the eyes 
 of a man who lends money at an exorbitant rate of 
 interest ; they gradually and surely contract like those of 
 the gambler, the sensualist, or the courtier ; and there 
 is, so to speak, a sort of freemasonry among the passions, 
 a written language of hieroglyphs and signs for those who 
 can read them. 
 
 M. Grandet therefore inspired in all around him the 
 respectful esteem which is but the due of a man who has 
 never owed any one a farthing in his life ; a just and 
 legitimate tribute to an astute old cooper and vinegrower
 
 lo Eugénie Grandet 
 
 who knew beforehand with the certainty of an astronomer 
 when five hundred casks would serve for the vintage, and 
 when to have a thousand in readiness ; a man who had 
 never lost on any speculation, who had always a stock of 
 empty barrels whenever casks were so dear that they 
 fetched more than the contents were worth ; who could 
 store his vintage in his own cellars, and afford to bide his 
 time, so that his puncheons would bring him in a couple 
 of hundred francs, while many a little proprietor who 
 could not wait had to be content with half that amount. 
 His famous vintage in the year 1811, discreetly held, and 
 sold only as good opportunities offered, had been worth 
 two hundred and forty thousand livres to him. 
 
 In matters financial M. Grandet might be described as 
 combining the characteristics of the Bengal tiger and the 
 boa constrictor. He could lie low and wait, crouching, 
 watching for his prey, and make his spring unerringly at 
 last ; then the jaws of his purse would unclose, a torrent 
 of coin would be swallowed down, and, as in the case of 
 the gorged reptile, there would be a period of inaction ; 
 like the serpent, moreover, he was cold, apathetic, methodi- 
 cal, keeping to his own mysterious times and seasons. 
 
 No one could see the man pass without feeling a 
 certain kind of admiration, which was half dread, half 
 respects The tiger's clutch was like steel, his claws 
 were sharp and swift ; was there any one in Saumur who 
 had not felt them ? Such an one, for instance, wanted 
 to borrow money to buy that piece of land which he had 
 set his heart upon ; M. Cruchot had found the money for 
 him — at eleven per cent. And there was So-and-so 
 yonder ; M. des Grassins had discounted his bills, but it 
 was at a ruinous rate. 
 
 There were not many days when M. Grandet's name 
 did not come up in conversation, in familiar talk in the 
 evenings, or in the gossip of the town. There were 
 people who took a kind of patriotic pride in the old vine- 
 grower's wealth. More than one innkeeper or merchant
 
 Eugénie Grandet ii 
 
 had found occasion to remark to a stranger with a certain 
 complacency, ' There are millionaires in two or three of 
 our firms here, sir ; but as for M. Grandet, he himself 
 could hardly tell you how much he was worth ! ' 
 
 In 1816 the shrewdest heads in Saumur set down the 
 value of the cooper's landed property at about four 
 millions ; but as, to strike a fair average, he must have 
 drawn something like a hundred thousand francs (they 
 thought) from his property between the years 1793 and 
 18 1 7, the amount of money he possessed must nearly 
 equal the value of the land. So when M. Grandet's 
 name was mentioned over a game at boston, or a chat 
 about the prospects of the vines, these folk would look 
 wise and remark, ' Who is that you are talking of ? Old 
 Grandet ? . . Old Grandet must have five or six millions, 
 there is no doubt about it.' 
 
 ' Then you are cleverer than I am ; I have never been 
 able to find out how much he has,' M. Cruchot or M. 
 des Grassins would put in, if they overheard the speech. 
 
 If any one from Paris mentioned the Rothschilds or 
 M. Laffitte, the good people in Saumur would ask if any 
 of those persons were as rich as M. Grandet ? And if 
 the Parisian should answer in the affirmative with a pity- 
 ing smile, they looked at one another incredulously and 
 flung up their heads. So great a fortune was like a 
 golden mantle ; it covered its owner and all that he did. 
 At one time some of the eccentricities of his mode of life 
 gave rise to laughter at his expense ; but the satire and 
 the laughter had died out, and M. Grandet still went his 
 way, till at last even his slightest actions came to be 
 taken as precedents, and every trifling thing he said or 
 did carried weight. His remarks, his clothing, his 
 gestures, the way he blinked his eyes, had all been 
 studied with the care with which a naturalist studies the 
 workings of instinct in some wild creature ; and no one 
 failed to discern the taciturn and profound wisdom that 
 underlay all these manifestations.
 
 12 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' We shall have a hard winter,' they would say ; ' old 
 Grandet has put on his fur gloves, we must gather 
 the grapes.' Or, ' Goodman Grandet is laying in a lot 
 of cask staves ; there will be plenty of wine this year.' 
 
 M. Grandet never bought either meat or bread. Part 
 of his rents were paid in kind, and every week his tenants 
 brought in poultry, eggs, butter, and wheat sufficient for 
 the needs of his household. Moreover, he owned a mill, 
 and the miller, besides paying rent, came over to fetch a 
 certain quantity of corn, and brought him back both the 
 bran and the flour. Big Nanon, the one maid-servant, 
 baked all the bread once a week on Saturday mornings 
 (though she was not so young as she had been). Others 
 of the tenants were market gardeners, and M. Grandet 
 had arranged that these were to keep him supplied with 
 fresh vegetables. Of fruit there was no lack ; indeed, he 
 sold a good deal of it in the market. Firewood was 
 gathered from his own hedges, or taken from old 
 stumps of trees that grew by the sides of his fields. His 
 tenants chopped up the wood, carted it into the town, 
 and obligingly stacked his faggots for him, receiving in 
 return — his thanks. So he seldom had occasion to spend 
 money. His only known items of expenditure were for 
 sacramental bread, for sittings in the church for his wife 
 and daughter, their dress, Nanon's wages, renewals of the 
 linings of Nanon's saucepans, repairs about the house, 
 candles, rates and taxes, and the necessary outlays of 
 money for improvements. He had recently acquired six 
 hundred acres of woodland, and, being unable to look 
 after it himself, had induced a keeper belonging to a 
 neighbour to attend to it, promising to repay the man 
 for his trouble. After this purchase had been made, and 
 not before, game appeared on the Grandets' table. 
 
 Grandet's manners were distinctly homely. He did 
 not say very much. He expressed his ideas, as a rule, in 
 brief, sententious phrases, uttered in a low voice. Since 
 the time of the Revolution, when for awhile he had
 
 Eugénie Grandet 13 
 
 attracted some attention, the worthy man had contracted 
 a tiresome habit of stammering as soon as he took part 
 in a discussion or began to speak at any length. He had 
 other peculiarities. He habitually drowned his ideas in 
 a flood of words more or less incoherent j his singular 
 inaptitude for reasoning logically was usually set down to 
 a defective education ; but this, like his unwelcome fluency, 
 the trick of stammering, and various other mannerisms, 
 was assumed, and for reasons which, in the course of the 
 story, will be made sufliciently clear. In conversation, 
 moreover, he had other resources : four phrases, like 
 algebraical formulae, which fitted every case, were always 
 forthcoming to solve every knotty problem in business or 
 domestic life — 'I do not know,' 'I cannot do it,' 'I will 
 have nothing to do with it,' and ' We shall see.' He 
 never committed himself; he never said Yes or No; he 
 never put anything down in writing. He listened with 
 apparent indifference when he was spoken to, caressing 
 his chin with his right hand, while the back of his left 
 supported his elbow. When once he had formed his 
 opinion in any matter of business, he never changed it ; 
 but he pondered long even over the smallest transactions. 
 When in the course of deep and weighty converse he 
 had managed to fathom the intentions of an antagonist, 
 who meanwhile flattered himself that he at last knew 
 where to have Grandet, the latter was wont to say, ' I 
 must talk it over with my wife before I can give a 
 definite answer,' In business matters the wife, whom he 
 had reduced to the most abject submission, was unques- 
 tionably a most convenient support and screen. 
 
 He never paid visits, never dined away from home, nor 
 asked any one to dinner ; his movements were almost 
 noiseless ; he seemed to carry out his principles of economy 
 in everything ; to make no useless sound, to be chary of 
 spending even physical energy. His respect for the rights 
 of ownership was so habitual that he never displaced nor 
 disturbed anything belonging to another. And yet, in
 
 14 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 spite of the low tones of his voice, in spite of his dis- 
 cretion and cautious bearing, the cooper's real character 
 showed itself in his language and manners, and this was 
 more especially the case in his own house, where he was 
 less on his guard than elsewhere. 
 
 As to Grandet's exterior. He was a broad, square- 
 shouldered, thick-set man, about five feet high ; his legs 
 were thin (he measured perhaps twelve inches round the 
 calves), his knee joints large and prominent. He had a 
 bullet-shaped head, a sun-burned face, scarred with the 
 smallpox, and a narrow chin ; there was no trace of a 
 curve about the lines of his mouth. He possessed a set 
 of white teeth, eyes with the expression of stony avidity 
 in them with which the basilisk is credited, a deeply- 
 furrowed brow on which there were prominences not 
 lacking in significance, hair that had once been of a 
 sandy hue, but which was now fast turning grey ; so 
 that thoughtless youngsters, rash enough to make jokes 
 on so serious a subject, would say that M. Grandet's very 
 hair was 'gold and silver.' On his nose, which was 
 broad and blunt at the tip, was a variegated wen ; gossip 
 affirmed, not without some appearance of truth, that 
 spite and rancour was the cause of this affection. There 
 was a dangerous cunning about this face, although the 
 man, indeed, was honest according to the letter of the 
 law ; it was a selfish face ; there were but two things in 
 the world for which its owner cared — the delights of 
 hoarding wealth in the first place, and in the second, the 
 only being who counted for anything in his estimation, 
 his daughter Eugénie, his only child, who one day should 
 inherit that wealth. His attitude, manner, bearing, and 
 everything about him plainly showed that he had the 
 belief in himself which is the natural outcome of an 
 unbroken record of successful business speculations. 
 Pliant and smooth-spoken though he might appear to 
 be, M. Grandet was a man of bronze. He was always 
 dressed after the same fashion j in iBig he looked in
 
 Eugénie Grandet i^ 
 
 this respect exactly as he had looked at any time since 
 1791. His heavy shoes were secured by leather laces; 
 he wore thick woollen stockings all the year round, knee 
 breeches of chestnut brown homespun, silver buckles, a 
 brown velvet waistcoat adorned with yellow stripes and 
 buttoned up to the throat, a loosely-fitting coat with 
 ample skirts, a black cravat, and a broad-brimmed Quaker- 
 like hat. His gloves, like those of the gendarmerie, were 
 chosen with a view to hard wear ; a pair lasted him nearly 
 two years. In order to keep them clean, he always laid 
 them down on the same place on the brim of his hat, 
 till the action had come to be mechanical with him. 
 So much, and no more, Saumur knew of this her 
 citizen. 
 
 A few fellow townspeople, six in all, had the rightof entry 
 to Grandet's house and society. First among these in order 
 of importance was M. Cruchot's nephew. Ever since 
 his appointment as president of the court of first instance, 
 this young man had added the appellation ' de Bonfons ' 
 to his original name of Cruchot ; in time he hoped that 
 the Bonfons would efface the Cruchot, when he meant 
 to drop the Cruchot altogether, and was at no little pains 
 to compass this end. Already he styled himself C. de 
 Bonfons. Any litigant who was so ill inspired as to 
 address him in court as 'M. Cruchot,' was soon made 
 painfully aware that he had blundered. The magistrate 
 was about thirty-three years of age, and the owner of 
 the estate of Bonfons [^oni Fontis)^ which brought in 
 annually seven thousand livres. In addition to this he 
 had prospects ; he would succeed some day to the pro- 
 perty of his uncle the notary, and there was yet another 
 uncle besides, the Abbé Cruchot, a dignitary of the 
 chapter of Saint Martin of Tours ; both relatives were 
 commonly reported to be men of substance. The three 
 Cruchots, with a goodly number of kinsfolk, connected 
 too by marriage with a score of other houses, formed a 
 sort of party in the town, like the family of the Medicis
 
 1 6 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 in Florence long ago ; and, like the Medicis, the Cruchots 
 had their rivals — their Pazzi, 
 
 Mme. des Grassins, the mother of a son twenty-three 
 years of age, came assiduously to take a hand at cards 
 with Mme. Grandet, hoping to marry her own dear 
 Adolphe to Mademoiselle Eugénie. She had a powerful 
 ally in her husband the banker, who had secretly rendered 
 the old miser many a service, and who could give 
 opportune aid on her field of battle. The three des 
 Grassins had likewise their host of adherents, their 
 cousins, and trusty auxiliaries. 
 
 The Abbé (the Talleyrand of the Cruchot faction), 
 well supported by his brother the notary, closely 
 disputed the ground with the banker's wife ; they 
 meant to carry off the wealthy heiress for their 
 nephew the president. The struggle between the 
 two parties for the prize of the hand of Eugénie 
 Grandet was an open secret j all Saumur watched it with 
 the keenest interest. Which would Mile. Grandet marry ? 
 Would it be M. le Président or M. Adolphe des 
 Grassins ? Some solved the problem by saying that 
 M. Grandet would give his daughter to neither. The 
 old cooper (said they) was consumed with an ambition 
 to have a peer of France for his son-in-law, and he was 
 on the look-out for a peer of France, who for the con- 
 sideration of an income of three hundred thousand livres 
 would find all the past, present, and future barrels of the 
 Grandets no obstacle to a match. Others demurred to 
 this, and urged that both M. and Mme. des Grassins 
 came of a good fixmily, that they had wealth enough for 
 anything, that Adolphe was a very good-looking, pretty 
 behaved young man, and that unless the Grandets had 
 a Pope's nephew somewhere in the background, they 
 ought to be satisfied with a match in every way so 
 suitable ; for they were nobodies after all ; all Saumur had 
 seen Grandet going about with an adze in his hands, and 
 moreover he had worn the red cap of Liberty in his time.
 
 Eugénie Grandet ly 
 
 The more astute observers remarked that M. Cruchot 
 de Bonfons was free of the house in the High Street, 
 while his rival only visited there on Sundays. Some 
 maintained that Mme. des Grassins, being on more 
 intimate terms with the women of the house, had 
 opportunities of inculcating certain ideas which sooner 
 or later must conduce to her success. Others retorted 
 that the Abbé Cruchot had the most insinuating manner 
 in the world, and that with a churchman on one side and 
 a woman on the other the chances were about even. 
 
 ' It is gown against cassock,' said a local wit. 
 
 Those whose memories went further back, said that 
 the Grandets were too prudent to let all that property go 
 out of the family. Mile. Eugénie Grandet of Saumur 
 would be married one of these days to the son of the 
 other M. Grandet of Paris, a rich wholesale wine 
 merchant. To these both Cruchotins and Grassinistes 
 were wont to reply as follows : — 
 
 ' In the first place, the brothers have not met twice 
 in thirty years. Then M. Grandet of Paris is ambitious 
 for that son of his. He himself is mayor of his division 
 of the department, a deputy, a colonel of the National 
 Guard, and a judge of the tribunal of commerce. He 
 does not own to any relationship with the Grandets of 
 Saumur, and is seeking to connect himself with one of 
 Napoleon's dukes.' 
 
 What will not people say of an heiress ? Eugénie 
 Grandet was a stock subject of conversation for twenty 
 leagues round ; nay, in public conveyances, even as far 
 as Angers on the one hand and Blois on the other ! 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1811 the Cruchotins 
 gained a signal victory over the Grassinistes. The young 
 Marquis de Froidfond being compelled to realise his 
 capital, the estate of Froidfond, celebrated for its park 
 and its handsome chateau, was for sale ; together with 
 its dependent farms, rivers, fishponds, and forest ; 
 altogether it was worth three million francs. M. Cruchot, 
 
 B
 
 1 8 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 President Cruchot, and the Abbé Cruchot by uniting 
 their forces had managed to prevent a proposed division 
 into small lots. The notary made an uncommonly good 
 bargain for his client, representing to the young marquis 
 that the purchase money of the small lots could only 
 be collected after endless trouble and expense, and that 
 he would have to sue a large proportion of the purchasers 
 for it ; while here was M. Grandet, a man whose credit 
 stood high, and who was moreover ready to pay for the 
 land at once in hard coin, it would be better to take 
 M. Grandet's offer. In this way the fair marquisate of 
 Froidfond was swallowed down by M. Grandet, who, to 
 the amazement of Saumur, paid for it in ready money 
 (deducting discount of course) as soon as the required 
 formalities were completed. The news of this trans- 
 action travelled far and wide ; it reached Orleans, it 
 was spoken of at Nantes. 
 
 M. Grandet went to see his château, and on this 
 wise ; a cart happened to be returning thither, so he 
 embraced this opportunity of visiting his newly acquired 
 property, and took a look round in the capacity of owner. 
 Then he returned to Saumur, well convinced that this 
 investment would bring him in a clear five per cent., 
 and fired with a magnificent ambition ; he would add 
 his own bits of land to the marquisate of Froidfond, and 
 everything should lie within a ring fence. For the 
 present he would set himself to replenish his almost 
 exhausted cofl'ers ; he would cut down every stick of 
 timber in his copses and forests, and fell the poplars in 
 his meadows. 
 
 It is easy after this explanation to understand all that 
 was conveyed by the words, 'M. Grandet's house' — the 
 cold, dreary, and silent house at the upper end of the 
 town, under the shadow of the ruined ramparts. 
 
 Two pillars supported the arch above the doorway, 
 and for these, as also for the building of the house itself, 
 a porous crumbling stone peculiar to the district along
 
 Eugénie Grandet ig 
 
 the banks of the Loire had been employed, a kind of 
 tufa so soft that at most it scarcely lasts for two hundred 
 years. Rain and frost had gnawed numerous irregular 
 holes in the surface, with a curious effect ; the piers and 
 the voussoirs looked as though they were composed of 
 the vermicular stones often met with in French architec- 
 ture. The doorway might have been the portal of a 
 gaol. Above the arch there was a long sculptured 
 bas-relief of harder stone, representing the four Seasons, 
 four forlorn figures, aged, blackened, and weather worn. 
 Above the bas-relief there was a projecting ledge of 
 masonry where some chance -sown plants had taken 
 root ; yellow pellitory, bindweed, a plantain or two, 
 and a little cherry-tree, that even now had reached a 
 fair height. 
 
 * The massive door itself was of dark oak, shrunk and 
 warped, and full of cracks ; but, feeble as it looked, it 
 was firmly held together by a series of iron nails with 
 huge heads, driven into the wood in a symmetrical 
 design. In the middle there was a small square grating 
 covered with rusty iron bars, which served as an excuse 
 for a door knocker which hung there from a ring, and 
 struck upon the menacing head a great iron bolt. 
 The knocker itself, oblong in shape, was of the kind 
 that our ancestors used to call a 'Jaquemart,' and not 
 unlike a huge note of admiration. If an antiquary 
 had examined it carefully, he might have found some 
 traces of the grotesque human head that it once re- 
 presented, but the features of the typical clown had 
 long since been effaced by constant wear. The little 
 grating had been made in past times of civil war, so 
 that the household might recognise their friends without 
 before admitting them, but now it afforded to inquisitive 
 eves a view of a dank and gloomy archway, and a flight 
 of broken steps leading to a not unpicturesque garden 
 shut in by thick walls through which the damp was 
 oozing, and a hedge of sickly-looking shrubs. The
 
 20 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 walls were part of the old fortifications, and up above 
 upon the ramparts there were yet other gardens belong- 
 ing to some of the neighbouring houses. 
 
 A door beneath the arch of the gateway opened into 
 a large parlour, the principal room on the ground floor. 
 Few people comprehend the importance of this apartment 
 in little towns in Anjou, Berri, and Touraine. The 
 parlour is also the hall, drawing-room, study, and 
 boudoir all in one ; it is the stage on which the drama 
 of domestic life is played, the very heart and centre of 
 the home. Hither the hairdresser repaired once in six 
 months to cut M. Grandet's hair. The tenants and the 
 curé, the sous-préfet and the miller's lad, were all alike 
 shown into this room. There were two windows which 
 looked out upon the street, the floor was boarded, the 
 walls were panelled from floor to ceiling, covered with 
 old carvings, and painted gray. The rafters were left 
 visible, and were likewise painted grey, the plaster in 
 intervening spaces was yellow with age. 
 
 An old brass clock case inlaid with arabesques in 
 tortoise-shell stood on the chimney-piece, which was of 
 white stone, and adorned with rude carvings. Above it 
 stood a mirror of a greenish hue, the edges were bevelled 
 in order to display the thickness of the glass, and reflected 
 a thin streak of coloured light into the room, which was 
 caught again by the polished surface of another mirror 
 of Damascus steel, which hung upon the wall. 
 
 Two branched sconces of gilded copper which adorned 
 either end of the chimney-piece answered a double pur- 
 pose. The branch roses which served as candle-sockets 
 were removable, and the main stem, fitted into an antique 
 copper contrivance on a bluish marble pedestal, did duty 
 as a candlestick for ordinary days. 
 
 The old-fashioned chairs were covered with tapestry, 
 on which the fables of La Fontaine were depicted ; but 
 a thorough knowledge of the author was required in order 
 to make out the subjects, for the colours had faded badly,
 
 Eugénie Grandet 21 
 
 and the outlines of the figures were hardly visible through 
 a multitude of darns. Four sideboards occupied the four 
 corners of the room, each of these articles of furniture 
 terminating in a tier of very dirty shelves. An old inlaid 
 card-table with a chess-board marked out upon its surface 
 stood in the space between the two windows, and on the 
 wall, above the table, hung an oval barometer in a dark 
 wooden setting, adorned by a carved bunch of ribbons ; 
 they had been gilt ribbons once upon a time, but genera- 
 tions of flies had wantonly obscured the gilding, till its 
 existence had become problematical. Two portraits in 
 pastel hung on the wall opposite the fireplace. One 
 was believed to represent Mme. Grandet's grandfather, 
 old M. de la Bertellière, as a lieutenant in the 
 Guards, and the other the late Mme. Gentillet, as a 
 shepherdess. 
 
 Crimson curtains of gros de lours were hung in the 
 windows and fastened back with silk cords and huge 
 tassels. This luxurious upholstery, so little in harmony 
 with the manners and customs of the Grandets, had been 
 included in the purchase of the house, like the pier-glass, 
 the brass timepiece, the tapestry-covered chairs, and the 
 rosewood corner sideboards. In the further window 
 stood a straw-bottomed chair, raised on blocks of wood, 
 so that Mme. Grandet could watch the passers-by as she 
 sat. A work-table of cherry wood, bleached and faded by 
 the light, filled the other window space, and close beside 
 it Eugénie Grandet's little armchair was set. 
 
 The lives of mother and daughter had flowed on 
 tranquilly for fifteen years. Day after day, from April 
 to November, they sat at work in the windows ; but the 
 first day of the latter month found them beside the fire, 
 where they took up their positions for the winter. 
 Grandet would not allow a fire to be lighted in the 
 room before that date, nor again after the 31st of March, 
 let the early days of spring or of autumn be cold as they 
 might. Big Nanon managed by stealth to fill a little
 
 2 2 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 brazier with glowing ashes from the kitchen fire, and in 
 this way the chilly evenings of April and October were 
 rendered tolerable for Mme. and Mile. Grandet. All 
 the household linen was kept in repair by the mother 
 and daughter ; and so conscientiously did they devote 
 their days to this duty (no light task in truth), that if 
 Eugénie wanted to embroider a collarette for her mother 
 she was obliged to steal the time from, her hours of 
 slumber, and to resort to a deception to obtain from her 
 father the candle by which she worked. For a long 
 while past it had been the miser's wont to dole out the 
 candles to his daughter and big Nanon in the same way 
 that he gave out the bread and the other matters daily 
 required by the household. 
 
 Perhaps big Nanon was the one servant in existence 
 who could and would have endured her master's tyrannous 
 rule. Every one in the town used to envy M. and 
 Mme. Grandet. ' Big Nanon,' so called on account of 
 her height of five feet eight inches, had been a part of 
 the Grandet household for thirty-five years. She was 
 held to be one of the richest servants in Saumur, and this 
 on a yearly wage of seventy livres ! The seventy livres 
 had accumulated for thirty-five years, and quite recently 
 Nanon had deposited four thousand livres with M. 
 Cruchot for the purchase of an annuity. This result of 
 a long and persevering course of thrift appealed to the 
 imagination — it seemed tremendous. There was not a 
 maid-servant in Saumur but was envious of the poor 
 woman, who by the time she had reached her sixtieth 
 year would have scraped together enough to keep herself 
 from want in her old age ; but no one thought of the 
 hard life and all the toil which had gone to the making 
 of that little hoard. 
 
 Thirty-five years ago, when Nanon had been a homely, 
 hard-featured girl of two-and-twenty, she had not been 
 able to find a place because her appearance had been so 
 much against her. Poor Nanon ! it was really very
 
 Eugénie Grandet 23 
 
 hard. If her head had been set on the shoulders of a 
 grenadier it would have been greatly admired, but there 
 is a fitness in things, and Nanon's style of beauty was 
 inappropriate. She had been a herdswoman on a farm for 
 a time, till the farmhouse had been burnt down, and then 
 it was, that, full of the robust courage that shrinks from 
 nothing, she came to seek service in Saumur. 
 
 At that time M. Grandet was thinking of marriage, and 
 already determined to set up housekeeping. The girl, 
 who had been rebuffed from door to door, came under his 
 notice. He was a cooper, and therefore a good judge of 
 physical strength ; he foresaw at once how useful this 
 feminine Hercules could be, a strongly-made woman who 
 stood planted as firmly on her feet as an oak tree rooted in the 
 soil where it has grown for two generations, a woman with 
 square shoulders, large hips, and hands like a ploughman's, 
 and whose honesty was as unquestionable as her virtue. 
 He was not dismayed by a martial countenance, a dis- 
 figuring wart or two, a complexion like burnt clay, and a 
 pair of sinewy arms ; neither did Nanon's rags alarm the 
 cooper, whose heart was not yet hardened against misery. 
 He took the poor girl into his service, gave her food, 
 clothes, shoes, and wages. Nanon found her hard life 
 not intolerably hard. Nay, she secretly shed tears of joy 
 at being so treated ; she felt a sincere attachment for this 
 master, who expected as much from her as ever feudal 
 lord required of a serf. 
 
 Nanon did all the work of the house. She did the 
 cooking and the washing, carrying all the linen down 
 to the Loire and bringing it back on her shoulders. She 
 rose at daybreak and went to bed late. It was she who, 
 without any assistance, cooked for the vintagers in the 
 autumn, and looked sharply after the market-folk. She 
 watched over her master's property like a faithful dog, 
 and with a blind belief in him ; she obeyed his most 
 arbitrary commands without a murmur— his whims were 
 law to her.
 
 24 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 After twenty years of service, in the famous year i8i i, 
 when the vintage had been gathered in after unheard-of 
 toil and trouble, Grandet made up his mind to present 
 Nanon with his old watch, the only gift she had ever 
 received from him. She certainly had the reversion of 
 his old shoes (which happened to fit her), but as a rule 
 they were so far seen into already that they were of little 
 use to any one else, and could not be looked upon as a 
 present. Sheer necessity had made the poor girl so 
 penurious that Grandet grew quite fond of her at last, 
 and regarded her with the same sort of affection that a 
 man gives to his dog ; and as for Nanon, she cheerfully 
 wore the collar of servitude set round with spikes that 
 she had ceased to feel. Grandet might stint the day's 
 allowance of bread, but she did not grumble. The fare 
 might be scanty and poor, but Nanon's spirits did not 
 suffer, and her health appeared to benefit; there was 
 never any illness in that house. 
 
 And then Nanon was one of the family. She shared 
 every mood of Grandet's, laughed when he laughed, was 
 depressed when he was out of spirits, took her views of 
 the weather or of the temperature from him, and worked 
 with him and for him. This equality was an element of 
 sweetness which made up for many hardships in her lot. 
 Out in the vineyards her master had never said a word 
 about the small peaches, plums, or nectarines eaten under 
 the trees that are planted between the rows of vines. 
 
 ' Come, Nanon, take as much as you like,' he would 
 say, in years when the branches were bending beneath 
 their load, and fruit was so abundant that the farmers 
 round about were forced to give it to the pigs. 
 
 For the peasant girl, for the outdoor farm servant, who 
 had known nothing but harsh treatment from childhood, 
 for the girl who had been rescued from starvation by 
 charity, old Grandet's equivocal laughter was like a ray 
 of sunshine. Besides, Nanon's simple nature and limited 
 intelligence could only entertain one idea at a time ; and
 
 Eugénie Grandet 25 
 
 during those thirty-five years of service one picture was 
 constantly present to her mind — she saw herself a bare- 
 footed girl in rags standing at the gate of M. Grandet's 
 timber yard, and heard the sound of the cooper's voice, 
 saying, ' What is it, lassie ? ' and the warmth of gratitude 
 filled her heart to-day as it did then. Sometimes, as he 
 watched her, the thought came up in Grandet's mind 
 how that no syllable of praise or admiration had ever 
 been breathed in her ears, that all the tender feelings that 
 a woman inspires had no existence for her, and that she 
 might well appear before God one day as chaste as the 
 Virgin Mary herself. At such times, prompted by a sudden 
 impulse of pity, he would exclaim, ' Poor Nanon ! ' 
 
 The remark was always followed by an indescribable 
 look from the old servant. The words so spoken from 
 time to time were separate links in a long and unbroken 
 chain of friendship. But in this pity in the miser's soul, 
 which gave a thrill of pleasure to the lonely woman, there 
 was something indescribably revolting ; it was a cold- 
 blooded pity that stirred the cooper's heart ; it was a 
 luxury that cost him nothing. But for Nanon it meant 
 the height of happiness ! Who will not likewise say, 
 ' Poor Nanon ! ' God will one day know His angels by 
 the tones of their voices and by the sorrow hidden in their 
 hearts. 
 
 There were plenty of households in Saumur where 
 servants were better treated, but where their employers, 
 nevertheless, enjoyed small comfort in return. Wherefore 
 people asked, ' What have the Grandets done to that big 
 Nanon of theirs that she should be so attached to them ? 
 She would go through fire and water to serve them ! ' 
 
 Her kitchen, with its barred windows that looked out 
 into the yard, was always clean, cold, and tidy, a thorough 
 miser's kitchen, in which nothing was allowed to be 
 wasted. When Nanon had washed her plates and dishes, 
 put the remains of the dinner into the safe, and raked 
 out the fire, she left her kitchen (which was only
 
 20 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 separated from the dining-room by the breadth of a 
 passage), and sat down to spin hemp in the company of 
 her employers, for a single candle must suffice for the 
 whole family in the evening. The serving-maid slept in 
 a little dark closet at the end of the passage, lit only by 
 a borrowed light. Nanon had an iron constitution and 
 sound health, which enabled her to sleep with impunity 
 year after year in this hole, where she could hear the 
 slightest sound that broke the heavy silence brooding day 
 and night over the house ; she lay like a watch-dog, with 
 one ear open ; she was never off duty, not even while she 
 slept. 
 
 Some description of the rest of the house will be 
 necessary in the course of the story in connection with 
 later events ; but the parlour, wherein all the splendour 
 and luxury of the house was concentrated, has been 
 sketched already, and the emptiness and bareness of the 
 upper rooms can be surmised for the present. 
 
 It was in the middle of November, in the year 1819, 
 twilight was coming on, and big Nanon was lighting a 
 fire in the parlour for the first time. It was a festival 
 day in the calendar of the Cruchotins and Grassinistes, 
 wherefore the six antagonists were preparing to set forth, 
 all armed cap-à-pie, for a contest in which each side 
 meant to outdo the other in proofs of friendship. The 
 Grandets' parlour was to be the scene of action. That 
 morning Mme. and Mile. Grandet, duly attended by 
 Nanon, had repaired to the parish church to hear mass. 
 All Saumur had seen them go, and every one had been 
 put in mind of the fact that it was Eugenie's birthday. 
 M. Cruchot, the Abbe Cruchot, and M. C. de Bonfons, 
 therefore, having calculated the hour when dinner would 
 be over, were eager to be first in the field, and to 
 arrive before the Grassinistes to congratulate Mile. 
 Grandet. All three carried huge bunches of flowers 
 gathered in their little garden plots, but the stalks of
 
 Eugénie Grandet 27 
 
 the magistrate's bouquet were ingeniously bound round 
 by a white satin ribbon with a tinsel fringe at the ends. 
 
 In the morning M. Grandet had gone to Eugenie's 
 room before she had left her bed, and had solemnly pre- 
 sented her with a rare gold coin. It was her father's 
 wont to surprise her in this way twice every year — once 
 on her birthday, once on the equally memorable day of 
 her patron saint. Mme. Grandet usually gave her 
 daughter a winter or a summer dress, according to cir- 
 cumstances. The two dresses and two gold coins, which 
 she received on her father's birthday and on New Year's 
 Day, altogether amounted to an annual income of nearly 
 a hundred crowns ; Grandet loved to watch the money 
 accumulating in her hands. He did not part with his 
 money ; he felt that it was only like taking it out of one 
 box and putting it into another ; and besides, was it not, 
 so to speak, fostering a proper regard for gold in his 
 heiress ? she was being trained in the way in which she 
 should go. Now and then he asked for an account of 
 her wealth (formerly swelled by gifts from the La 
 Bertellières), and each time he did so he used to tell her, 
 ' This will be your do%en when you are married.' 
 
 The do%eyi is an old-world custom which has lost none 
 of its force, and is still religiously adhered to in several 
 midland districts in France. In Berri or Anjou when a 
 daughter is married, it is incumbent upon her parents, or 
 upon her bridegroom's family, to give her a purse contain- 
 ing either a dozen, or twelve dozen, or twelve hundred 
 gold or silver coins, the amount varying with the means 
 of the family. The poorest herd-girl would not be 
 content without her do%en when she married, even if she 
 could only bring twelve pence as a dower. They talk 
 even yet at Issoudun of a fabulous dozen once given to a 
 rich heiress, which consisted of a hundred and forty- four 
 Portuguese moidores j and when Catherine de Medicis 
 was married to Henry 11., her uncle, Clement vii., gave 
 the bride a dozen antique gold medals of priceless value.
 
 28 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Eugénie wore her new dress at dinner, and looked 
 prettier than usual in it ; her father was in high good 
 humour. 
 
 'Let us have a fire,' he cried, ' as it is Eugenie's birth- 
 day ! It will be a good omen.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle will be married within the year, 
 that 's certain,' said big Nanon, as she removed the 
 remains of a goose, that pheasant of the coopers of 
 Saumur. 
 
 'There is no one that I know of in Saumur who 
 would do for Eugénie,' said Mme. Grandet, with a timid 
 glance at her husband, a glance that revealed how com- 
 pletely her husband's tyranny had broken the poor 
 woman's spirit. 
 
 Grandet looked at his daughter, and said merrily, 
 ' We must really begin to think about her; the little girl 
 is twenty-three years old to-day.' 
 
 Neither Eugénie nor her mother said a word, but they 
 exchanged glances ; they understood each other. 
 
 Mme. Grandet's face was thin and wrinkled and 
 yellow as saffron ; she was awkward and slow in her 
 movements, one of those beings who seem born to be 
 tyrannised over. She was a large-boned woman, with a 
 large nose, large eyes, and a prominent forehead ; there 
 seemed to be, at first sight, some dim suggestion of a 
 resemblance between her and some shrivelled, spongy, 
 dried-up fruit. The few teeth that remained to her 
 were dark and discoloured ; there were deep lines fretted 
 about her mouth, and her chin was something after 
 the ' nut-cracker ' pattern. She was a good sort of 
 woman, and a La Bertellière to the backbone. The 
 Abbé Cruchot had more than once found occasion to 
 tell her that she had not been so bad looking when 
 she was young, and she did not disagree with him. 
 An angelic sweetness of disposition, the helpless meek- 
 ness of an insect in the hands of cruel children, a sincere 
 piety, a kindly heart, and an even temper that nothing
 
 Eugénie Grandet 29 
 
 could ruffle or sour, had gained universal respect and pity 
 for her. 
 
 Her appearance might provoke a smile, but she had 
 brought her husband more than three hundred thousand 
 francs, partly as her dow^ry, partly through bequests. 
 Yet Grandet never gave his wife more than six francs 
 at a time for pocket money, and she alw^ays regarded 
 herself as dependent upon her husband. The meek 
 gentleness of her nature forbade any revolt against his 
 tyranny ; but so deeply did she feel the humiliation of her 
 position, that she had never asked him for a sou, and w^hen 
 M. Cruchot demanded her signature to any document, 
 she aWays gave it without a word. This foolish sensitive 
 pride, which Grandet constantly and unwittingly hurt, 
 this magnanimity which he was quite incapable of under- 
 standing, were Mme. Grandet's dominant characteristics. 
 
 Her dress never varied. Her gown was always of the 
 same dull, greenish shade of laventine, and usually lasted 
 her nearly a twelvemonth ; the large handkerchief at 
 her throat was of some kind of cotton material ; she wore 
 a straw bonnet, and was seldom seen without a black 
 silk apron. She left the house so rarely that her walking 
 shoes were seldom worn out ; indeed, her requirements 
 were very few, she never wanted anything for herself. 
 Sometimes it would occur to Grandet that it was a long 
 while since he had given the last six francs to his wife, 
 and his conscience would prick him a little ; and after 
 the vintage, when he sold his wine, he always demanded 
 pin-money for his wife over and above the bargain. 
 These four or five louis out of the pockets of the Dutch 
 or Belgian merchants were Mme. Grandet's only certain 
 source of yearly income. But although she received her 
 five louis, her husband would often say to her, as if they 
 had had one common purse, ' Have you a few sous that 
 you can lend me ? ' and she, poor woman, glad that it 
 was in her power to do anything for the man whom her 
 confessor always taught her to regard as her lord and
 
 30 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 master, used to return to him more than one crown out 
 of her little store in the course of the winter. Every 
 month, when Grandet disbursed the five-franc piece 
 which he allowed his daughter for needles, thread, and 
 small expenses of dress, he remarked to his wife (after 
 he had buttoned up his pocket), ' And how about you, 
 mother ; do you want anything ? ' And with a mother's 
 dignity Mme. Grandet would answer, ' We will talk 
 about that by-and-by, dear.' 
 
 Her magnanimity was entirely lost upon Grandet ; he 
 considered that he did very handsomely by his wife. The 
 philosophic mind contemplating the Nanons, the Mme. 
 Grandets, the Eugenics of this life, holds that the Author 
 of the universe is a profound satirist, and who will 
 quarrel with the conclusion of the philosophic mind ? 
 After the dinner, when the question of Eugenie's 
 marriage had been raised for the first time, Nanon went 
 up to M. Grandet's room to fetch a bottle of black- 
 currant cordial, and very nearly lost her footing on the 
 staircase as she came down. 
 
 ' Great stupid ! Are you going to take to tumbling 
 about ? ' inquired her master. 
 
 ' It is all along of the step, sir ; it gave way. The 
 staircase isn't safe.' 
 
 'She is quite right,' said Mme. Grandet. 'You 
 ought to have had it mended long ago. Eugénie all but 
 sprained her foot on it yesterday.' 
 
 ' Here,' said Grandet, who saw that Nanon looked 
 very pale, 'as to-day is Eugenie's birthday, and you have 
 nearly fallen downstairs, take a drop of black currant 
 cordial ; that will put you right again.' 
 
 ' I deserve it, too, upon my word,' said Nanon. 
 ' Many a one would have broken the bottle in my 
 place J I should have broken my elbow first, holding 
 it up to save it.' 
 
 ' Poor Nanon ! ' muttered Grandet, pouring out the 
 black-currant cordial for her.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 31 
 
 'Did you hurt yourself ?' asked Eugénie, looking at 
 her in concern. 
 
 ' No, I managed to break the fall ; I came down on 
 my side.' 
 
 'Well,' said Grandet, 'as to-day is Eugenie's birthday, 
 I will mend your step for you. Somehow, you women 
 folk cannot manage to put your foot down in the corner, 
 where it is still solid and safe.' 
 
 Grandet took up the candle, left the three women 
 without any other illumination in the room than the 
 bright dancing firelight, and went to the bakehouse, 
 where tools, nails, and odd pieces of wood were kept. 
 
 ' Do you want any help ? ' Nanon called to him, 
 when the first blow sounded on the staircase. 
 
 ' No ! no ! I am an old hand at it,' answered the 
 cooper. 
 
 At this very moment, while Grandet was doing the 
 repairs himself to his worm-eaten staircase, and whistling 
 with all his might as memories of his young days came 
 up in his mind, the three Cruchots knocked at the 
 house door. 
 
 'Oh, it's you, is it, M. Cruchot ? ' asked Nanon, as 
 she took a look through the small square grating. 
 
 ' Yes,' answered the magistrate. 
 
 Nanon opened the door, and the glow of the firelight 
 shone on the three Cruchots, who were groping in the 
 archway. 
 
 ' Oh ! you have come to help us keep her birthday,' 
 Nanon said, as the scent of flowers reached her. 
 
 ' Excuse me a moment, gentlemen,' cried Grandet, who 
 recognised the voices of his acquaintances ; ' I am your 
 very humble servant ! There is no pride about me ; 
 I am patching up a broken stair here myself.' 
 
 ' Go on, go on, M. Grandet ! The charcoal burner is 
 mayor in his own house,' said the magistrate sententiously. 
 Nobody saw the allusion, and he had his laugh all to 
 himself.
 
 32 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Mme. and Mlle. Grandet rose to greet them. The 
 magistrate took advantage of the darkness to speak to 
 Eugénie. 
 
 ' Will you permit me, mademoiselle, on the anniversary 
 of your birthday, to wish you a long succession of 
 prosperous years, and may you for long preserve the 
 health v^ith w^hich you are blessed at present.' 
 
 He then offered her such a bouquet of flow^ers as 
 was seldom seen in Saumur ; and taking the heiress by 
 both arms, gave her a kiss on either side of the throat, 
 a fervent salute which brought the colour into Eugenie's 
 face. The magistrate was tall and thin, somewhat 
 resembling a rusty nail ; this was his notion of paying 
 court. 
 
 ' Do not disturb yourselves,' said Grandet, coming back 
 into the room. ' Fine doings these of yours, M. le 
 Président, on high days and holidays ! ' 
 
 'With mademoiselle beside him every day would be 
 a holiday for my nephew,' answered the Abbé Cruchot, 
 also armed with a bouquet ; and with that the Abbé 
 kissed Eugenie's hand. As for M. Cruchot, he kissed 
 her unceremoniously on both cheeks, saying, ' This sort 
 of thing makes us feel older, eh ? A whole year older 
 every twelve months.' 
 
 Grandet set down the candle in front of the brass 
 clock on the chimney-piece ; whenever a joke amused 
 him he kept on repeating it till it was worn threadbare ; 
 he did so now. 
 
 ' As to-day is Eugenie's birthday,' he said, ' let us have 
 an illumination.' 
 
 He carefully removed the branches from the two 
 sconces, fitted the sockets into either pedestal, took from 
 Nanon's hands a whole new candle wrapped in a scrap 
 of paper, fixed it firmly in the socket, and lighted it. 
 Then he went over to his wife and took up his 
 position beside her, looking by turns at his daughter, his 
 friends, and the two lighted candles.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 33 
 
 The Abbé Cruchot was a fat, dumpy little man with 
 a well-worn sandy peruke. His peculiar type of face 
 might have belonged to some old lady whose life is 
 spent at the card table. At this moment he was stretch- 
 ing out his feet and displaying a very neat and strong 
 pair of shoes with silver buckles on them. 
 
 'The des Grassins have not come round ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' Not yet,' answered Grandet. 
 
 ' Are they sure to come ? ' put in the old notary, 
 with various contortions of a countenance as full of 
 holes as a colander. 
 
 ' Oh ! yes, I think they will come,' said Mme. Grandet. 
 
 ' Is the vintage over ? ' asked President de Bonfons, 
 addressing Grandet ; ' are all your grapes gathered ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, everywhere ! ' answered the old vinegrower, 
 rising and walking up and down the length of the room, 
 he straightened himself up as he spoke with a conscious 
 pride that appeared in that word 'everywhere.' 
 
 As he passed by the door that opened into the 
 passage, Grandet caught a glimpse of the kitchen ; the 
 fire was still alight, a candle was burning there, and 
 big Nanon was about to begin her spinning by the 
 hearth ; she did not wish to intrude upon the birth- 
 day party. 
 
 ' Nanon ! ' he called, stepping out into the passage, 
 ' Nanon ! why ever don't you rake out the fire ; put 
 out the candle and come in here ! Pardieu ! the room 
 is large enough to hold us all.' 
 
 'But you are expecting grand visitors, sir.' 
 
 ' Have you any objection to them ? They are all 
 descended from Adam just as much as you are.' 
 
 Grandet went back to the president. 
 
 ' Have you sold your wine ?' he inquired. 
 
 ' Not I ; I am holding it. If the wine is good now, 
 it will be better still in two years' time. The growers, as 
 you know, of course, are in a ring, and mean to keep 
 prices up. The Belgians shall not have it all their own 
 
 c
 
 34 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 way this year. And if they go away, well and good, let 
 them go ; they will come back again.' 
 
 ' Yes ; but we must hold firm,' said Grandet in a 
 tone that made the magistrate shudder. 
 
 ' Suppose he should sell his wine behind our backs ? ' 
 he thought. 
 
 At that moment another knock at the door announced 
 the des Grassins, and interrupted a quiet talk between 
 Mme. Grandet and the Abbé Cruchot. 
 
 Mme. des Grassins was a dumpy, lively, little person 
 with a pink-and-white complexion, one of those women 
 for whom the course of life in a country town has flowed 
 on with almost claustral tranquillity, and who, thanks to 
 this regular and virtuous existence, are still youthful at 
 the age of forty. They are something like the late roses in 
 autumn, which are fair and pleasant to the sight, but the 
 almost scentless petals have a pinched look, there is a vague 
 suggestion of coming winter about them. She dressed 
 tolerably well, her gowns came from Paris, she was a 
 leader of society in Saumur, and received on certain 
 evenings. Her husband had been a quartermaster in 
 the Imperial Guard, but he had retired from the army 
 with a pension, after being badly wounded at Austerlitz. 
 In spite of his consideration for Grandet, he still retained, 
 or afîected to retain, the blufF manners of a soldier. 
 
 ' Good day, Grandet,' he said, holding out his hand to 
 the cooper with that wonted air of superiority with which 
 he eclipsed the Cruchot faction. ' Mademoiselle,' he 
 added, addressing Eugénie, after a bow to Mme. Grandet, 
 ' you are always charming, ever good and fair, and what 
 more can one wish you ? ' 
 
 With that he presented her with a small box, which a 
 servant was carrying, and which contained a Cape heath, a 
 plant only recently introduced into Europe, and very rare. 
 
 Mme. des Grassins embraced Eugénie very affec- 
 tionately, squeezed her hand, and said, ' I have com- 
 missioned Adolphe to give you my little birthday gift.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 35 
 
 A tall, fair-haired young man, somewhat pallid and 
 weakly in appearance, came forward at this ; his manners 
 were passably good, although he seemed to be shy. He 
 had just completed his law studies in Paris, where he had 
 managed to spend eight or ten thousand francs over and 
 above his allowance. He now kissed Eugénie on both 
 cheeks, and laid a workbox with gilded silver fittings 
 before her; it was a showy, trumpery thing enough, in 
 spite of the little shield on the lid, on which an E. G. 
 had been engraved in Gothic characters, a detail which 
 gave an imposing air to the whole. Eugénie raised the 
 lid with a little thrill of pleasure, the happiness was as 
 complete as it was unlocked for — the happiness that 
 brings bright colour into a young girl's face and makes 
 her tremble with delight. Her eyes turned to her father 
 as if to ask whether she might accept the gift ; M. 
 Grandet answered the mute inquiry with a ' Take it, my 
 daughter ! ' in tones which would have made the reputa- 
 tion of an actor. The three Cruchots stood dumb- 
 founded when they saw the bright, delighted glance that 
 Adolphe des Grassins received from the heiress, who 
 seemed to be dazzled by such undreamed-of splendours. 
 
 M. des Grassins offered his snuff-box to Grandet, 
 took a pinch himself, brushed off a few stray specks from 
 his blue coat and from the ribbon of the Legion of 
 Honour at his button-hole, and looked at the Cruchots, 
 as who should say, ' Parry that thrust if you can ! ' 
 Mme. des Grassins' eyes fell on the blue glass jars in 
 which the Cruchots' bouquets had been set. She looked 
 at their gifts with the innocent air of pretended interest 
 which a satirical woman knows how to assume upon 
 occasion. It was a delicate crisis. The Abbé got up 
 and left the others, who were forming a circle round the 
 fire, and joined Grandet in his promenade up and down 
 the room. When rhe two elders had reached the em- 
 brasure of the window at the further end, away from the 
 group by the fire, the priest said in the miser's ear,
 
 36 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 * Those people yonder are throwing their money out of 
 the windows,' 
 
 ' What does that matter to me, so long as it comes 
 my way ? ' the old vinegrower answered. 
 
 ' If you had a mind to give your daughter golden 
 scissors, you could very well afford it,' said the Abbé. 
 
 * I shall give her something better than scissors,' 
 Grandet answered. 
 
 'What an idiot my nephew is ! ' thought the Abbé, 
 as he looked at the magistrate, whose dark, ill-favoured 
 countenance was set off to perfection at that moment by 
 a shock head of hair. ' Why couldn't he have hit on 
 some expensive piece of foolery ? ' 
 
 ' We will take a hand at cards, Mme. Grandet,' said 
 Mme. des Grassins. 
 
 ' But as we are all here, there are enough of us for two 
 tables . . .' 
 
 ' As to-day is Eugenie's birthday, why not all play 
 together at loto ? ' said old Grandet ; ' these two children 
 could join in the game.' 
 
 The old cooper, who never played at any game what- 
 ever, pointed to his daughter and Adolphe. 
 
 ' Here, Nanon, move the tables out.' 
 
 ' We will help you. Mademoiselle Nanon,' said Mme. 
 des Grassins cheerfully ; she was thoroughly pleased, 
 because she had pleased Eugénie. 
 
 ' I have never seen anything so pretty anywhere,' the 
 heiress had said to her. ' I have never been so happy in 
 my life before.' 
 
 ' It was Adolphe who chose it,' said Mme. des Grassins 
 in the girl's ear ; * he brought it from Paris.' 
 
 ' Go your ways, accursed scheming woman,' muttered 
 the magistrate to himself ' If you or your husband 
 ever find yourselves in a court of law, you shall be hard 
 put to it to gain the day.' 
 
 ji.S'The notary, calmly seated in his corner, watched the 
 Abbé, [and said to himself, 'The des Grassins may do
 
 Eugénie Grandet 27 
 
 what they Hke ; my fortune and my brother's and my 
 nephew's fortunes altogether mount up to eleven hundred 
 thousand francs. The des Grassins, at the very most, 
 have only half as much, and they have a daughter. Let 
 them give whatever they like, all will be ours some day 
 — the heiress and her presents too.' 
 
 Two tables were in readiness by half-past eight o'clock. 
 Mme. des Grassins, with her winning ways, had succeeded 
 in placing her son next to Eugénie. The actors in the 
 scene, so commonplace in appearance, so full of interest 
 beneath the surface, each provided with slips of paste- 
 board of various colours and blue glass counters, seemed 
 to be listening to the little jokes made by the old notary, 
 who never drew a number without making some remark 
 upon it, but they were all thinking of M. Grandet's 
 millions. The old cooper himself eyed the group with a 
 certain self-complacency ; he looked at Mme. des Grassins 
 with her pink feathers and fresh toilette, at the banker's 
 soldierly face, at Adolphe, at the magistrate, at the 
 Abbé and the notary, and within himself he said: 'They 
 are all after my crowns ; that is what they are here for. 
 It is for my daughter that they come to be bored here. 
 Aha ! and my daughter is for none of them, and all 
 these people are so many harpoons to be used in my 
 lishing.' 
 
 The merriment of this family party, the laughter, only 
 sincere when it came from Eugénie or her mother, and 
 to which the low whirring of Nanon's spinning-wheel 
 made an accompaniment, the sordid meanness playing 
 for high stakes, the young girl herself, like some rare 
 bird, the innocent victim of its high value, tracked down 
 and snared by specious pretences of friendship ; taken 
 altogether, it was a sorry comedy that was being played 
 in the old grey-painted parlour, by the dim light of the 
 two candles. Was it not, however, a drama of all time, 
 played out everywhere all over the world, but here 
 reduced to its simplest expression ? Old Grandet
 
 38 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 towered above the other actors, turning all this sham 
 affection to his own account, and reaping a rich harvest 
 from this simulated friendship. His face hovered above 
 the scene like the interpretation of an evil dream. He 
 was like the incarnation of the one god who yet finds 
 worshippers in modern times, of Money and the power 
 of wealth. 
 
 With him the gentler and sweeter impulses of human 
 life only occupied the second place ; but they so filled 
 three purer hearts there, that there was no room in them 
 for other thoughts — the hearts of Nanon, and of Eugénie 
 and her mother. And yet, how much ignorance mingled 
 with their innocent simplicity! Eugénie and her mother 
 knew nothing of Grandet's wealth ; they saw everything 
 through a medium of dim ideas peculiar to their own 
 laarrow world, and neither desired nor despised money, 
 accustomed as they were to do without it. Nor were they 
 conscious of an uncongenial atmosphere ; the strength of 
 their feelings, their inner life, made of them a strange 
 exception in this gathering, wholly intent upon material 
 interests. Appalling is the condition of man ; there is no 
 drop of happiness in his lot but has its source in ignorance. 
 
 Just as Mme. Grandet had won sixteen sous, the 
 largest amount that had ever been punted beneath that 
 roof, and big Nanon was beaming with delight at the 
 sight of Madame pocketing that splendid sum, there was 
 a knock at the house-door, so sudden and so loud that 
 the women started on their chairs. 
 
 'No one in Saumur would knock in that way ! ' said 
 the notary. 
 
 ' What do they thump like that for ? ' said Nanon. 
 ' Do they want to break our door down ? ' 
 
 ' Who the devil is it ? ' cried Grandet. 
 
 Nanon took up one of the two candles and went to 
 open the door. Grandet followed her. 
 
 ' Grandet ! Grandet ! ' cried his wife ; a vague terror 
 seized her, and she hurried to the door of the room.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 39 
 
 The players ail looked at each other. 
 
 ' Suppose we go too ? ' said M. des Grassins. ' That 
 knock meant no good, it seemed to me.' 
 
 But M. des Grassins scarcely caught a glimpse of a 
 young man's face and of a porter who was carrying two 
 huge trunks and an assortment of carpet bags, before 
 Grandet turned sharply on his wife and said — 
 
 ' Go back to your loto, Mme. Grandet, and leave me to 
 settle with this gentleman here.' 
 
 With that he slammed the parlour door, and the loto 
 players sat down again, but they were too much excited 
 to go on with the game. 
 
 ' Is it any one who lives in Saumur, M. des Grassins ? ' 
 his wife inquired. 
 
 ' No, a traveller.' 
 
 ' Then he must have come from Paris.' 
 
 ' As a matter of fact,' said the notary, drawing out a 
 heavy antique watch, a couple of fingers breadth in 
 thickness, and not unlike a Dutch punt in shape, 'as a 
 matter of fact, it is nine o'clock. Peste! the mail coach 
 is not often behind time.' 
 
 ' Is he young looking ? ' put in the Abbé Cruchot. 
 
 ' Yes,' answered M. des Grassins. 'The luggage 
 he has with him must weigh three hundred kilos at 
 least.' 
 
 ' Nanon does not come back,' said Eugénie. 
 
 ' It must be some relation of yours,' the President 
 remarked. 
 
 ' Let us put down our stakes,' said Mme. Grandet 
 gently. ' M. Grandet was vexed, I could tell that by the 
 sound of his voice, and perhaps he would be displeased 
 if he came in and found us all discussing his affairs.' 
 
 'Mademoiselle,' Adolphe addressed his neighbour, 
 ' it will be your cousin Grandet no doubt, a very nice- 
 looking young fellow whom I once met at a ball at M. 
 de Nucingen's.' 
 
 Adolphe went no further, his mother stamped on
 
 40 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 his foot under the table. Aloud, she asked him for two 
 sous for his stake, adding in an undertone, meant only 
 for his ears, ' Will you hold your tongue, you great silly ! ' 
 
 They could hear the footsteps of Nanon and the 
 porter on the staircase, but Grandet returned to the 
 room almost immediately, and just behind him came the 
 traveller who had excited so much curiosity, and loomed 
 so large in the imaginations of those assembled ; indeed, 
 his sudden descent into their midst might be compared 
 to the arrival of a snail in a beehive, or the entrance of a 
 peacock into some humdrum village poultry-yard. 
 
 ' Take a seat near the fire,' said Grandet, addressing 
 the stranger. 
 
 The young man looked round the room and bowed 
 very gracefully before seating himself. The men rose 
 and bowed politely in return, the women curtseyed rather 
 ceremoniously. 
 
 'You are feeling cold, I expect, sir,' said Mme. 
 Grandet ; ' you have no doubt come from ' 
 
 ' Just like the women ! ' broke in the goodman, looking 
 up from the letter which he held in his hand. ' Do let 
 the gentleman have a little peace.' 
 
 ' But, father, perhaps the gentleman wants something 
 after his journey,' said Eugénie. 
 
 ' He has a tongue in his head,' the vinegrower 
 answered severely. 
 
 The stranger alone felt any surprise at this scene, the 
 rest were quite used to the worthy man and his arbitrary 
 behaviour. But after the two inquiries had received 
 these summary answers, the stranger rose and stood with 
 his back to the fire, held out a foot to the blaze, so as to 
 warm the soles of his boots, and said to Eugenie, ' Thank 
 you, cousin, I dined at Tours. And I do not require 
 anything,' he added, glancing at Grandet ; * I am not in 
 the least tired,' 
 
 ' Do you come from Paris ? ' (it was Mme. des Grassins 
 who now put the inquiry).
 
 Eugénie Grandet 41 
 
 M. Charles (for this was the name borne by the son of 
 M. Grandet of Paris), hearing some one question him, 
 took out an eyeglass that hung suspended from his neck 
 by a cord, fixed it in his eye, made a deliberate survey of 
 the objects upon the table and of the people sitting 
 round it, eyed Mme, des Grassins very coolly, and said 
 (when he had completed his survey), ' Yes, madame. — 
 You are playing at loto, aunt,' he added ; * pray go 
 on with your game, it is too amusing to be broken 
 off ... ' 
 
 ' I knew it was the cousin,' thought Mme. des Grassins, 
 and she gave him a side-glance from time to time. 
 
 'Forty-seven,' cried the old Abbé. 'Keep count. 
 Mme. des Grassins, that is your number, is it not ? ' 
 
 M. des Grassins put down a counter on his wife's card ; 
 the lady herself was not thinking of loto, her mind was 
 full of melancholy forebodings, she was watching Eugénie 
 and the cousin from Paris. She saw how the heiress 
 now and then stole a glance at her cousin, and the 
 banker's wife could easily discover in those glances a 
 crescendo of amazement or of curiosity. 
 
 There was certainly a strange contrast between M. 
 Charles Grandet, a handsome young man of two-and- 
 twenty, and the worthy provincials, who, tolerably 
 disgusted already with his aristocratic airs, were scorn- 
 fully studying the stranger with a view to making game 
 of him. This requires some explanation. 
 
 At two-and-twenty childhood is not so very far away, 
 and youth, on the borderland, has not finally and for ever 
 put away childish things; Charles Grandet's vanity was 
 childish, but perhaps ninety-nine young men out of a 
 hundred would have been carried away by it and behaved 
 exactly as he did. 
 
 Some days previously his father had bidden him to go 
 on a visit of several months to his uncle in Saumur ; 
 perhaps M. Grandet (of Paris) had Eugénie in his mind. 
 Charles, launched in this way into a county town for
 
 / 42 / Eugénie Grandet 
 
 the first time in his life, had his own ideas. He would 
 make his appearance in provincial society with all the 
 superiority of a young man of fashion ; he would reduce 
 the neighbourhood to despair by his splendour ; he would 
 inaugurate a new epoch, and introduce all the latest and 
 most ingenious refinement of Parisian luxury. To be 
 brief, he meant to devote more time at Saumur than in 
 Paris to the care of his nails, and to carry out schemes 
 of elaborate and studied refinements in dress at his 
 leisure ; there should be none of the not ungraceful 
 negligence of attire which a young man of fashion some- 
 tirnes affects. 
 
 .'So Charles took with him into the country the most 
 ' charming of shooting costumes, the sweetest thing in 
 hunting-knives and sheaths, and a perfect beauty of a 
 rifle. He packed up a most tasteful collection of waist- 
 coats ; gray, white, black, beetle-green shot with gold, 
 speckled and spangled ; double waistcoats, waistcoats 
 with rolled collars, stand-up collars, turned-down collars, 
 open at the throat, buttoned up to the chin with a row of 
 gold buttons. He took examples of all the ties and 
 cravats in favour at that epoch. He took two of 
 Buisson's coats. He took his finest linen, and the dress- 
 ing-case with gold fittings that his mother had given 
 him. He took all his dandy's paraphernalia, not forget- 
 ting an enchanting little writing-case, the gift of the 
 most amiable of women (for him at least), a great lady 
 whom he called Annette, and who at that moment was 
 travelling with her husband in Scotland, a victim to 
 suspicions which demanded the temporary sacrifice of 
 her happiness. 
 
 In short, his cargo of Parisian frivolities was as com- 
 plete as it was possible to make it ; nothing had been 
 omitted, from the horse-whip, useful as a preliminary, to 
 the pair of richly chased and mounted pistols that ter- 
 minate a duel. There was all the ploughing gear 
 required by a young idler in the field of life.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 43 
 
 His father had told him to travel alone and modestly, 
 and he had obeyed. He had come in the coupé of the 
 diligence, which he secured all to himself; and was not 
 ill-satisfied to save wear, in this way, to a smart and 
 comfortable travelling carriage which he had ordered, 
 and in which he meant to go to meet his Annette, the 
 aforesaid great lady who . . . etc., and whom he was 
 to rejoin next June at Baden-Baden. 
 
 Charles expected to meet scores /of people during his 
 visit to his uncle ; he expected to have some shooting on 
 his uncle's land ; he expected, in short, to find a large 
 house on a large estate ; he had not thought to find his 
 relatives in Saumur at all ; he had only found out that 
 they lived there by asking the way to Froidfond, and 
 even after this discovery he expected to see them in a 
 large mansion. But whether his uncle lived in Saumur 
 or at Froidfond, he was determined to make his first 
 appearance properly, so he had assumed a most fascinating 
 travelling costume, made with the simplicity that is the 
 perfection of art, a most adorable creation, to use the 
 word which in those days expressed superlative praise of 
 the special qualities of a thing or of a man. At Tours 
 he had summoned a hairdresser, and his handsome chest- 
 nut hair was curled afresh. He had changed his linen and 
 put on a black satin cravat, which, in combination with 
 a round collar, made a very becoming setting for a pale 
 and satirical face. A long overcoat, fitting tightly at the 
 waist, gave glimpses of a cashmere waistcoat with a rolled 
 collar, and beneath this again a second waistcoat of some 
 white material. His watch was carelessly thrust into a 
 side pocket, and save in so far as a gold chain secured it 
 to a buttonhole, its continuance there appeared to be 
 purely accidental. His grey trousers were buttoned at 
 the sides, and the seams were adorned with designs 
 embroidered in black silk. A pair of grey gloves had 
 nothing to dread from contact with a gold-headed cane, 
 which he managed to admiration. A discriminating
 
 44 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 taste was evinced throughout the costume, and shone con- 
 spicuous in the travelhng cap. Only a Parisian, and a 
 Parisian moreover from some remote and lofty sphere, 
 could trick himself out in such attire, and bring all its 
 absurd details into harmony by coxcombry carried to 
 such a pitch that it ceased to be ridiculous ; this young 
 man carried it off, moreover, with a swaggering air 
 befitting a dead shot, conscious of the possession of a 
 handsome pair of pistols and the good graces of an 
 Annette. 
 
 If, moreover, you wish to thoroughly understand the 
 surprise with which the Saumurois and the young 
 Parisian mutually regarded each other, you must behold, 
 as did the former, the radiant vision of this elegant 
 traveller shining in the gloomy old room, as well as the 
 figures that composed the family picture that met the 
 stranger's eyes. There sat the Cruchots ; try to imagine 
 them. 
 
 To begin with, all three took snuff, with utter dis- 
 regard of personal cleanliness or of the black deposit with 
 which their shirt frills were encrusted. Their limp silk 
 handkerchiefs were twisted into a thick rope, and wound 
 tightly about their necks. Their collars were crumpled 
 and soiled, their linen was dingy ; there was such a vast 
 accumulation of underwear in their presses, that it was 
 only necessary to wash twice in the year, and the linen 
 acquired a bad colour with lying by. Age and ugliness 
 might have wrought together to produce a masterpiece 
 in them. Their hard-featured, furrowed, and wrinkled 
 faces were in keeping with their creased and threadbare 
 clothing, and both they and their garments were worn, 
 shrunken, twisted out of shape. Dwellers in country 
 places are apt to grow more or less slovenly and 
 careless of their appearance ; they cease by degrees to 
 dress for others ; the career of a pair of gloves is in- 
 definitely prolonged, there is a general want of freshness 
 and a decided neglect of detail. The slovenliness of the
 
 Eugénie Grandet 45 
 
 Cruchots, therefore, was not conspicuous j they were in 
 harmony with the rest of the company, for there was one 
 point on which both Cruchotins and Grassinistes were 
 agreed for the most part — they held the fashions in 
 horror. 
 
 The Parisian assumed his eyeglass again in order to 
 study the curious accessories of the room ; his eyes 
 travelled over the rafters in the ceiling, over the dingy 
 panels covered with fly-spots in sufficient abundance to 
 punctuate the whole of the Encyclopédie méthodique and 
 the Moniteur besides. The loto-players looked up at 
 this and stared at him; if a giraffe had been in their 
 midst they could hardly have gazed with more eager 
 curiosity. Even M. des Grassins and his son, who had 
 beheld a man of fashion before in the course of their 
 lives, shared in the general amazement ; perhaps they 
 felt the indefinable influence of the general feeling about 
 the stranger, perhaps they regarded him not unapprov- 
 ingly. 'You see how they dress in Paris,' their satirical 
 glances seemed to say to their neighbours. 
 
 One and all were at liberty to watch Charles at their 
 leisure, without any fear of offending the master of the 
 house, for by this time Grandet was deep in a long letter 
 which he held in his hand. He had taken the only 
 candle from the table beside him, without any regard for 
 the convenience of his guests or for their pleasure. 
 
 It seemed to Eugénie, who had never in her life beheld 
 such a paragon, that her cousin was some seraphic vision, 
 some creature fallen from the skies. The perfume 
 exhaled by those shining locks, so gracefully curled, was 
 delightful to her. She would fain have passed her 
 fingers over the delicate, smooth surface of those 
 wonderful gloves. She envied Charles his little hands, 
 his complexion, the youthful refinement of his features. 
 In fact, the sight of her cousin gave her the same sensa- 
 tions of exquisite pleasure that might be aroused in a 
 young man by the contemplation of the fanciful portraits
 
 46 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 of ladies in English Keepsakes^ portraits drawn by Westall 
 and engraved by Finden, with a burin so skilful that you 
 fear to breathe upon the vellum surface lest the celestial 
 vision should disappear. And yet — how should the im- 
 pression produced by a young exquisite upon an ignorant 
 girl whose life was spent in darning stockings and mend- 
 ing her father's clothes, in the dirty wainscoted window 
 embrasure whence, in an hour, she saw scarcely one 
 passer-by in the silent street, how should her dim im- 
 pressions be conveyed by such an image as this ? 
 
 Charles drew from his pocket a handkerchief em- 
 broidered by the great lady who was travelling in 
 Scotland. It was a dainty piece of work wrought by 
 love, in hours that were lost to love ; Eugénie gazed at 
 her cousin, and wondered, was he really going to use it ? 
 Charles's manners, his way of adjusting his eyeglass, his 
 superciliousness, his affectations, his manifest contempt 
 for the little box which had but lately given so much 
 pleasure to the wealthy heiress, and which in his eyes 
 seemed to be a very absurd piece of rubbish ; everything, 
 in short, which had given offence to the Cruchots and 
 the Grassinistes pleased Eugénie so much that she lay 
 awake for long that night thinking about this phoenix of 
 a cousin. 
 
 Meanwhile the numbers were drawn but languidly, 
 and very soon the loto came to an end altogether. Big 
 Nanon came into the room and said aloud, ' Madame, 
 you will have to give me some sheets to make the 
 gentleman's bed.' 
 
 Mme. Grandet disappeared with Nanon, and Mme. des 
 Grassins said in a low voice, ' Let us keep our sous, and 
 give up the game.' 
 
 Each player took back his coin from the chipped saucer 
 which held the stakes. Then there was a general stir, 
 and a wheeling movement in the direction of the fire. 
 
 ' Is the game over } ' inquired Grandet, still reading his 
 letter.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 47 
 
 ' Yes, yes,' answered Mme. des Grassins, seating her- 
 self next to Charles. 
 
 Eugénie left the room to help her mother and Nanon, 
 moved by a thought that came with the vague feeling 
 that stirredîher heart for the first time. If she had been 
 questioned by a skilful confessor, she would have no doubt 
 admitted that her thought was neither for Nanon nor for 
 her mother, but that she was seized with a restless and 
 urgent desire to see that all was right in her cousin's 
 room, to busy herself on her cousin's account, to see that 
 nothing was forgotten, to think of everything he might 
 require, and to make sure that it was there, to make 
 certain that everything was as neat and pretty as might 
 be. She alone, so Eugénie thought already, could enter 
 into her cousin's ideas and understand his tastes. 
 
 As a matter of fact, she came just at the right moment. 
 Her mother and Nanon were about to leave the room in 
 the belief that it was all in readiness; Eugénie convinced 
 them in a moment that everything was yet to do. She 
 filled Nanon's head with these ideas : the sheets had not 
 been aired, Nanon must bring the warming-pan, there 
 were ashes, there was a fire downstairs. She herself 
 covered the old table with a clean white cloth, and told 
 Nanon to mind and be sure to change it every morning. 
 There must be a good fire in the room ; she overcame her 
 mother's objections, she induced Nanon to put a good 
 supply of firewood outside in the passage, and to say 
 nothing about it to her father. She ran downstairs into 
 the parlour, sought in one of the sideboards for an old 
 japanned tray which had belonged to the late M. de la 
 Bertellière, and from the same source she procured a 
 hexagonal crystal glass, a little gilt spoon with almost 
 all the gilding rubbed off, and an old slender-necked glass 
 bottle with Cupids engraved upon it ; these she deposited 
 in triumph on a corner of the chimney-piece. More ideas 
 had crowded up in her mind during that onequarter of an hour 
 than in all the years since she had come into the world.
 
 48 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' Mamma,' she began, ' he will never be able to bear 
 the smell of a tallow candle. Suppose that we buy a wax 
 candle ? ' 
 
 She fled, lightly as a bird, to find her purse, and drew 
 thence the five francs which she had received for the 
 month's expenses. 
 
 ' Here, Nanon, be quick.' 
 
 ' But what will your father say ? ' 
 
 This dreadful objection was raised by Mme. Grandet, 
 when she saw her daughter with an old Sèvres china 
 sugar-basin which Grandet had brought back with him 
 from the château at Froidfond. 
 
 ' And where is the sugar to come from ? ' she went on. 
 ' Are you mad ? ' 
 
 ' Nanon can easily buy the sugar when she goes for 
 the candle, mamma.' 
 
 ' But how about your father ? ' 
 
 'Is it a right thing that his nephew should not have a 
 glass of eau sucrée to drink if he happens to want it ? 
 Besides, he will not notice it.' 
 
 ' Your father always notices things,' said Mme. Grandet, 
 shaking her head. 
 
 Nanon hesitated ; she knew her master. 
 
 ' Do go, Nanon ; it is my birthday to-day, you know ! ' 
 
 Nanon burst out laughing in spite of herself at the first 
 joke her young mistress had ever been known to make, 
 and did her bidding. 
 
 While Euo;énie and her mother were doing their best 
 to adorn the room which M. Grandet had allotted to his 
 nephew, Mme. des Grassins was bestowing her attention on 
 Charles, and making abundant use of her eyes as she did so. 
 
 ' You are very brave,' she said, ' to leave the pleasures 
 of the capital in winter in order to come to stay in 
 Saumur. But if you are not frightened away at first 
 sight of us, you shall see that even here we can amuse 
 ourselves.' And she gave him a languishing glance, in 
 true provincial style.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 49 
 
 Women in the provinces are wont to affect a demure 
 and staid demeanour, which gives a furtive and eager 
 eloquence to their eyes, a peculiarity which may be noted 
 in ecclesiastics, for whom every pleasure is stolen or for- 
 bidden. Charles was so thoroughly out of his element in 
 this room, it was all so far removed from the great chateau 
 and the splendid surroundings in which he had thought 
 to find his uncle, that, on paying closer attention to 
 Mme. des Grassins, she almost reminded him of Parisian 
 faces half obliterated already by these strange, new 
 impressions. He responded graciously to the advances 
 which had been made to him, and naturally they fell 
 into conversation. 
 
 Mme. des Grassins gradually lowered her voice to tones 
 suited to the nature of her confidences. Both she and 
 Charles Grandet felt a need of mutual confidence, of 
 explanations and an understanding ; so after a few minutes 
 spent in coquettish chatter and jests that covered a serious 
 purpose, the wily provincial dame felt free to converse 
 without fear of being overheard, under cover of a con- 
 versation on the sale of the vintage, the one all-absorbing 
 topic at that moment in Saumur. 
 
 'If you will honour us with a visit,' she said, 'you 
 will certainly do us a pleasure ; my husband and I shall 
 be very glad to see you. Our salon is the only one in 
 Saumur where you will meet both the wealthy merchant 
 society and the noblesse. We ourselves belong, in a 
 manner to both ; they do not mix with each other at all 
 except at our house ; they come to us because they find 
 it amusing. My husband, I am proud to say, is very 
 highly thought of in both circles. So we will do our 
 best to beguile the tedium of your stay. If you are 
 going to remain with the Grandets, what will become 
 of you ! Boh Dieu ! Your uncle is a miser, his mind 
 runs on nothing but his vine cuttings ; your aunt is a 
 saint who cannot put two ideas together j and your 
 cousin is a silly little thing, a common sort of girl, 
 
 D
 
 50 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 with no breeding and no money, who spends her life in 
 mending dish-cloths.' 
 
 ''Tis a very pretty woman,' said Charles to himself; 
 Mme. des Grassins' coquettish glances had not been 
 thrown away upon him. 
 
 ' It seems to me that you mean to monopolise the 
 gentleman,' said the big banker, laughing, to his wife, an 
 unlucky observation, followed by remarks more or less 
 spiteful from the notary and the president ; but the Abbé 
 gave them a shrewd glance, took a pinch of snuff, and 
 handed his snuff-box to the company, while he gave 
 expression to their thoughts, ' Where could the gentle- 
 man have found any one better qualified to do the 
 honours of Saumur ? ' he said. 
 
 ' Come, Abbé, what do you mean by that ? ' asked 
 M. des Grassins. 
 
 ' It is meant, sir, in the most flattering sense for 
 you, for madame, for the town of Saumur, and for this 
 gentleman,' added the shrewd ecclesiastic, turning 
 towards Charles. Without appearing to pay the slightest 
 heed to their talk, he had managed to guess the drift 
 of it. 
 
 Adolphe des Grassins spoke at last, with what was 
 meant to be an offhand manner. ' I do not know,' he 
 said, addressing Charles, ' whether you have any recollec- 
 tion of me ; I once had the pleasure of dancing in the 
 same quadrille at a ball given by M. le Baron de 
 Nucingen, and . . .' 
 
 *I remember it perfectly,' answered Charles, sur- 
 prised to find himself the object of general attention. 
 
 ' Is this gentleman your son ? ' he asked of Mme. des 
 Grassins. 
 
 The Abbé gave her a spiteful glance. 
 
 ' Yes, I am his mother,' she answered. 
 
 ' You must have been very young when you came to 
 Paris ? ' Charles went on, speaking to Adolphe. 
 
 ' We cannot help ourselves, sir,' said the Abbé. ' Our
 
 Eugénie Grandet ^i 
 
 babes are scarcely weaned before we send them to 
 Babylon.' 
 
 Mme. des Grassins gave the Abbé a strangely penetrat- 
 ing glance ; she seemed to be seeking the meaning of 
 those words. 
 
 'You must go into the country,' the Abbé went on, 'if 
 you want to find women not much on the other side of 
 thirty, with a grown-up son a licentiate of law, who look as 
 fresh and youthful as Mme. des Grassins. It only seems 
 like the other day when the young men and the ladies 
 stood on chairs to see you dance, madame,' the Abbé 
 added, turning towards his fair antagonist ; ' your triumphs 
 are as fresh in my memory as if they had happened 
 yesterday.' 
 
 ' Oh ! the old wretch ! ' said Mme. des Grassins to 
 herself, 'is it possible that he has guessed ? ' 
 
 ' It looks as though I should have a great success in 
 Saumur,' thought Charles. He unbuttoned his overcoat 
 and stood with his hand in his waistcoat pocket, gazing 
 into space, striking the attitude which Chantrey thought 
 fit to give to Byron in his statue of that poet. 
 
 Meanwhile Grandet's inattention, or rather his pre- 
 occupation, during the reading of his letter had escaped 
 neither the notary nor the magistrate. Both of them 
 tried to guess at the contents by watching the almost 
 imperceptible changes in the worthy man's face, on 
 which all the light of a candle was concentrated. The 
 vinegrower was hard put to it to preserve his wonted 
 composure. His expression must be left to the imagina- 
 tion, but here is the fatal letter : — 
 
 ' My Brother, — ^It is nearly twenty-three years now 
 since we saw each other. The last time we met it 
 was to make arrangements for my marriage, and we 
 parted in high spirits. Little did I then think, when 
 you were congratulating yourself on our prosperity, 
 that one day you would be the sole hope and stay of our
 
 52 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 family. By the time that this letter reaches your hands, 
 I shall be no more. In my position, I could not survive 
 the disgrace of bankruptcy ; I have held up my head 
 above the surface till the last moment, hoping to w^eather 
 the storm ; it is all of no use, I must sink now. Just 
 after the failure of my stockbroker came the failure of 
 Roguin (my notary) ; my last resources have been sw^ept 
 avi^ay, and I have nothing left. It is my heavy mis- 
 fortune to ovv^e nearly four millions ; my assets only 
 amount to tw^enty-five per cent, of my debts. I hold 
 heavy stocks of wine, and owing to the abundance and 
 good quality of your vintages, they have fallen ruinously 
 in value. In three days time all Paris will say, "M. 
 Grandet was a rogue ! " and I, honest though I am, 
 shall lie wrapped in a winding sheet of infamy. I have 
 despoiled my own son of his mother's fortune and of the 
 spotless name on which I have brought disgrace. He 
 knows nothing of all this — the unhappy child whom 
 I have idolised. Happily for him, he did not know when 
 we bade each other good-bye, and my heart overflowed 
 with tenderness for him, how soon it should cease to 
 beat. Will he not curse me some day ? Oh ! my 
 brother, my brother, a child's curse is an awful thing ! 
 If we curse our children, they may appeal against us, 
 but their curses cling to us for ever ! Grandet, you are 
 my older brother, you must shield me from this ; do 
 not let Charles say bitter things of me when I am lying 
 in my grave. Oh ! my brother, if every word in this 
 letter were written in my tears, in my blood, it would 
 not cost me such bitter anguish, for then I should be 
 weeping, bleeding, dying, and the agony would be 
 ended ; but now I am still suffering — I see the death 
 before me with dry eyes. You therefore are Charles's 
 father, now ! He has no relations on his mother's side 
 for reasons which you know. Why did I not defer to 
 social prejudices ? Why did I yield to love ? Why did 
 I marry the natural daughter of a noble ? Charles is the
 
 Eugénie Grandet 53 
 
 last of his family ; he is alone in the world. Oh ! my 
 unhappy boy, my son ! . . . Listen, Grandet, I am ask- 
 ing nothing for myself, and you could scarcely satisfy 
 my creditors if you would ; your fortune cannot be 
 sufficient to meet a demand of three millions ; it is for 
 my son's sake that I write. You must know, my brother, 
 that as I think of you my petition is made with clasped 
 hands ; that this is my dying prayer to you. Grandet, 
 I know that you will be a father to him ; I know that 
 I shall not ask in vain, and the sight of my pistols does 
 not cause me a pang. 
 
 'And then Charles is very fond of me; I was kind 
 to him, I never said him nay ; he will not curse me ! 
 For the rest, you will see how sweet-tempered and 
 obedient he is j he takes after his mother ; he will never 
 give you any trouble, poor boy ! He is accustomed to 
 luxurious ways ; he knows nothing of the hardships that 
 you and I experienced in the early days when we were 
 poor. . . . And now he has not a penny, and he is alone 
 in the world, for all his friends are sure to leave him, 
 and it is I who have brought these humiliations upon 
 him. Ah ! if I had only the power to send him straight 
 to heaven now, where his mother is ! This is madness ! 
 To go back to my misfortunes and Charles's share in 
 them. I have sent him to you so that you may break 
 the news of my death and explain to him what his 
 future must be. Be a father to him ; ah ! more than 
 that, be an indulgent father ! Do not expect him to 
 give up his idle ways all at once ; it would kill him. On 
 my knees I beg him to renounce all claims to his 
 mother's fortune ; but I need not ask that of him, his 
 sense of honour will prevent him from adding himself to 
 the list of my creditors ; see that he resigns his claims 
 when the right time comes. And you must lay every- 
 thing before him, Grandet— the struggle and the hard- 
 ships that he will have to face in the life that I have 
 spoiled for him ; and then if he has any tenderness still
 
 54 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 left for me, tell him from me that all is not lost tor 
 him — be sure you tell him that. Work, which was 
 our salvation, can restore the fortune which I have lost ; 
 and if he will listen to his father's voice, which would 
 fain make itself heard yet a little while from the grave, 
 let him leave this country and go to the Indies ! And, 
 brother, Charles is honest and energetic ; you will help 
 him with his first trading venture, I know you will ; 
 he would die sooner than not repay you ; you will do as 
 much as that for him, Grandet, or you will lay up regrets 
 for yourself. Ah ! if my boy finds no kindness and no 
 help in you, I shall for ever pray God to punish your 
 hard-heartedness. If I could have withheld a few pay- 
 ments, I might have saved a little sum for him — he surely 
 has a right to some of his mother's fortune — but the pay- 
 ments at the end of the month taxed all my resources, 
 and I could not manage it. I would fain have died with 
 my mind at rest about his future ; I wish I could have 
 received your solemn promise, coming straight from 
 your hand it would have brought warmth with it for 
 me ; but time presses. Even while Charles is on his 
 way, I am compelled to file my schedule. My affairs 
 are all in order ; I am endeavouring so to arrange every- 
 thing that it will be evident that my failure is due 
 neither to carelessness nor to dishonesty, but simply to 
 disasters which I could not help. Is it not for Charles's 
 sake that I take these pains ? Farewell, my brother. 
 May God bless you in every way for the generosity with 
 which you (as 1 cannot doubt) will accept and fulfil this 
 trust. There will be one voice that will never cease to 
 pray for you in the world whither we must all go sooner 
 or later, and where I am even now. 
 
 Victor-Ange-Guillaume Grandet. 
 
 ' So you are having a chat ? ' said old Grandet, folding 
 up the letter carefully in the original creases, and putting 
 it into his waistcoat pocket.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 55 
 
 He looked at his nephew in a shy and embarrassed 
 way, seeking to dissemble his feelings and his calculations. 
 
 ' Do you feel warmer ? ' 
 
 ' I am very comfortable, my dear uncle.' 
 
 ' Well, what ever are the women after ? ' his uncle 
 went on ; the fact that his nephew would sleep in the 
 house had by that time slipped from his memory. 
 Eugenie and Mme. Grandet came into the room as 
 he spoke. 
 
 ' Is everything ready upstairs ? ' the goodman inquired. 
 He had now quite recovered himself, and recollected the 
 facts of the case. 
 
 ' Yes, father.' 
 
 ' Very well then, nephew, if you are feeling tired, 
 Nanon will show you to your room. Lord ! there is 
 nothing very smart about it, but you will overlook that 
 here among poor vinegrowers, who never have a penny 
 to bless themselves with. The taxes swallow up every- 
 thing we have.' 
 
 ' We don't want to be intrusive, Grandet,' said the 
 banker. ' You and your nephew may have some things 
 to talk over ; we will wish you good evening. Good- 
 bye till to-morrow.' 
 
 Every one rose at this, and took leave after their 
 several fashions. The old notary went out under the 
 archway to look for his lantern, lighted it, and offered to 
 see the des Grassins to their house. Mme. des Grassins 
 had not been prepared for the event which had brought 
 the evening so early to a close, and her maid had not 
 appeared. 
 
 ' Will you honour me by taking my arm, madame ? ' 
 said the Abbé Cruchot, addressing Mme. des Grassins. 
 
 ' Thank you, M. l'Abbé,' said the lady drily ; ' my 
 son is with me.' 
 
 ' I am not a compromising acquaintance for a lady,' 
 the Abbé continued. 
 
 ' Take M. Cruchot's arm,' said her husband.
 
 ^6 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 The Abbé, with the fair lady on his arm, walked on 
 quickly for several paces, so as to put a distance between 
 them and the rest of the party. 
 
 ' That young man is very good-looking, madame,' he 
 said, with a pressure on her arm to give emphasis to the 
 remark. ' 'Tis goodbye to the baskets, the vintage is 
 over ! You must give up Mile. Grandet ; Eugénie is 
 meant for her cousin. Unless he happens to be smitten 
 with some fair face in Paris, your son Adolphe will have 
 yet another rival ' 
 
 ' Nonsense, M. l'Abbé.' 
 
 ' It will not be long before the young man will find 
 out that Eugénie is a girl who has nothing to say for 
 herself; and she has gone off in looks. Did you notice 
 her ? She was as yellow as a quince this evening.' 
 
 ' Which, possibly, you have already pointed out to her 
 cousin ? ' 
 
 ' Indeed, I have not taken the trouble ' 
 
 ' If you always sit beside Eugénie, madame,' interrupted 
 the Abbé, 'you will not need to tell the young man much 
 about his cousin ; he can make his own comparisons.' 
 
 ' He promised me at once to come to dine with us 
 the day after to-morrow.' 
 
 ' Ah ! madame,' said the Abbé, ' if you would only . . .' 
 
 ' Would only what, M. l'Abbé ? Do you mean to put 
 evil suggestions into my mind ? I have not come to the 
 age of thirty-nine with a spotless reputation (Heaven be 
 thanked) to compromise myself now — not for the Empire 
 of the Great Mogul ! We are both of us old enough to 
 know what that kind of talk means; and I must say that 
 your ideas do not square very well with your sacred 
 calling. For shame ! this is worthy of Faublas.'' 
 
 ' So you have read Faublas ? ' 
 
 ' No, M. l'Abbé ; Les Liaisons dangereuses is what I 
 meant to say.' 
 
 ' Oh ! that book is infinitely more moral,' said the 
 Abbé, laughing. ' But you would make me out to be as
 
 Eugénie Grandet 57 
 
 depraved as young men are nowadays. I only meant 
 that you ' 
 
 ' Do you dare to tell me that you meant no harm ? 
 The thing is plain enough. If that young fellow (who 
 certainly is good-looking, that I grant you) paid court to 
 me, it would not be for the sake of my interest with that 
 cousin of his. In Paris, I know, there are tender mothers 
 who sacrifice themselves thus for their children's happi- 
 ness and welfare, but we are not in Paris, M. l'Abbé.' 
 
 ' No, madame.' 
 
 ' And,' continued she, ' neither Adolphe nor I would 
 purchase a hundred millions at such a price.' 
 
 'Madame, I said nothing about a hundred millions. 
 Perhaps such a temptation might have been too much 
 for either of us. Still, in my opinion, an honest woman 
 may indulge in a little harmless coquetry, in the strictest 
 propriety ; it is a part of her social duties, and — - — ' 
 
 ' You think so ? ' 
 
 ' Do we not owe it to ourselves, madame, to endeavour 
 to be as agreeable as possible to others ? . . . Permit me 
 to blow my nose. Take my word for it, madame,' 
 resumed the Abbé, ' that he certainly regarded you with 
 rather more admiration than he saw fit to bestow on me, 
 but I can forgive him for honouring beauty rather than 
 grey hairs ' 
 
 ' It is perfectly clear,' said the President in his thick 
 voice, ' why M. Grandet of Paris is sending his son to 
 Saumur; he has made up his mind to make a match ' 
 
 ' Then why should the cousin have dropped from the 
 skies like this ? ' answered the notary. 
 
 ' There is nothing in that,' remarked M. des Grassins, 
 * old Grandet is so close.' 
 
 ' Des Grassins,' said his wife, ' I have asked that young 
 man to come and dine with us. So you must go to M. 
 and Mme. de Larsonnière, dear, and ask them to come, 
 and the du Hautoys ; and they must bring that pretty 
 girl of theirs, of course j I hope she will dress herself
 
 58 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 properly for once. Her mother is jealous of her, and 
 makes her look such a figure. I hope that you gentlemen 
 will do us the honour of coming too ? ' she added, stopping 
 the procession in order to turn to the two Cruchots, who 
 had fallen behind. 
 
 ' Here we are at your door, madame,' said the notary. 
 The three Cruchots took leave of the three des Grassins, 
 and on their way home the talent for pulling each other 
 to pieces, which provincials possess in perfection, was 
 fully called into play ; the great event of the evening 
 was exhaustively discussed, and all its bearings upon the 
 respective positions of Cruchotins and Grassinistes were 
 duly considered. Clearly it behoved both alike to prevent 
 Eugénie from falling in love with her cousin, and to 
 hinder Charles from thinking of Eugénie. Sly hints, 
 plausible insinuations, faint praise, vindications under- 
 taken with an air of candid friendliness — what resistance 
 could the Parisian offer when the air hurtled with decep- 
 tive weapons such as these ? 
 
 As soon as the four relatives were left alone in the 
 great room, M. Grandet spoke to his nephew. 
 
 ' We must go to bed. It is too late to begin to talk 
 to-night of the business that brought you here ; to- 
 morrow will be time enough for that. We have break- 
 fast here at eight o'clock. At noon we take a snatch of 
 something, a little fruit, a morsel of bread, and a glass of 
 white wine, and, like Parisians, we dine at five o'clock. 
 That is the way of it. If you care to take a look at the 
 town, or to go into the country round about, you are 
 quite free to do so. You will excuse me if, for business 
 reasons, I cannot always accompany you. Very likely 
 you will be told hereabouts that I am rich : 'tis always 
 M. Grandet here and M. Grandet there. I let them 
 talk. Their babble does not injure my credit in anyway. 
 But I have not a penny to bless myself with ; and, old as 
 I am, I work like any young journeyman who has nothing 
 in the world but his plane and a pair of stout arms.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 59 
 
 Perhaps you will find out for yourself some of these days 
 what a lot of work it takes to earn a crown when you 
 have to toil and moil for it yourself. Here, Nanon, 
 bring the candles.' 
 
 ' I hope you will find everything you want, nephew,' 
 said Mme. Grandet ; ' but if anything has been forgotten, 
 you will call Nanon.' 
 
 ' It would be difficult to want anything, my dear 
 aunt, for I believe I have brought all my things with 
 me. Permit me to wish you and my young cousin good 
 night.' 
 
 Charles took a lighted wax-candle from Nanon ; it was 
 a commodity of local manufacture, which had grown old 
 in the shop, very dingy, very yellow, and so like the 
 ordinary tallow variety that M. Grandet had no suspicion 
 of the article of luxury before him ; indeed, it never 
 entered into his head to imagine that there could be such 
 a thing in the house. 
 
 ' I will show you the way,' said the goodman. 
 
 One of the doors in the dining-room gave immediate 
 access to the archway and to the staircase ; but to-night, 
 out of compliment to his guest, Grandet went by way of 
 the passage which separated the kitchen from the dining- 
 room. A folding-door, with a large oval pane of glass 
 let into it, closed in the passage at the end nearest the 
 staircase, an arrangement intended to keep out the blasts 
 of cold air that rushed through the archway. With a 
 like end in view, strips of list had been nailed to the 
 doors ; but in winter the east wind found its way in, and 
 whistled none the less shrewdly about the house, and the 
 dining-room was seldom even tolerably warm. 
 
 Nanon went out, drew the bolts on the entrance gate, 
 fastened the door of the dining-room, went across to the 
 stable to let loose a great wolf-dog with a cracked voice ; 
 it sounded as though the animal was suffering from 
 laryngitis. His savage temper was well known, and 
 Nanon was the only human being who could manage
 
 6o Eugénie Grandet 
 
 him. There was some wild strain in both these children 
 of the fields ; they understood each other. 
 
 Charles glanced round at the dingy yellow walls and 
 smoke-begrimed ceiling, and saw how the crazy, worm- 
 eaten stairs shook beneath his uncle's heavy tread ; he 
 was fast coming to his senses, this was sober reality 
 indeed ! The place looked like a hen-roost. He looked 
 round questioningly at the faces of his aunt and cousin, 
 but they were so thoroughly accustomed to the staircase 
 and its peculiarities that it never occurred to them that it 
 could cause any astonishment ; they took his signal of 
 distress for a simple expression of friendliness, and smiled 
 back at him in the most amiable way. That smile was 
 the last straw ; the young man was at his wits' end. 
 
 ' What the devil made my father send me here ? ' said 
 he to himself. 
 
 Arrived on the first landing, he saw before him three 
 doors painted a dull red-brown colour ; there were no 
 mouldings round any of them, so that they would have 
 been scarcely visible in the dusty surface of the wall if it 
 had not been for the very apparent heavy bars of iron 
 with which they were embellished, and which terminated 
 in a sort of rough ornamental design, as did the ends of 
 the iron scutcheons which surrounded the keyholes. A 
 door at the head of the stairs, which had once given 
 entrance into the room over the kitchen, was evidently 
 blocked up. As a matter of fact, the only entrance was 
 through Grandet's own room, and this room over the 
 kitchen was the vinegrower's sanctum. 
 
 Daylight was admitted into it by a single window 
 which looked out upon the yard, and which, for greater 
 security, was protected by a grating of massive iron bars. 
 The master of the house allowed no one, not even Mme. 
 Grandet, to set foot in this chamber ; he kept the right 
 of entry to himself, and sat there, undisturbed and alone, 
 like an alchemist in the midst of his crucibles. Here, no 
 doubt, there was some cunningly contrived and secret
 
 Eugénie Grandet 6i 
 
 hiding-place ; for here he stored up the title-deeds of his 
 estates ; here, too, he kept the delicately adjusted scales in 
 which he weighed his gold louis ; and here every night 
 he made out receipts, wrote acknowledgments of sums 
 received, and laid his schemes, so that other business 
 men seeing Grandet never busy, and always prepared 
 for every emergency, might have been excused for 
 imagining that he had a fairy or familiar spirit at his 
 beck and call. Here, no doubt, when Nanon's snoring 
 shook the rafters, when the savage watch-dog bayed and 
 prowled about the yard, when Mme. Grandet and 
 Eugénie were fast asleep, the old cooper would come to 
 be with his gold, and hug himself upon it, and toy with 
 it, and fondle it, and brood over it, and so, with the 
 intoxication of the gold upon him, at last to sleep. The 
 walls were thick, the closed shutters kept their secret. 
 He alone had the key of this laboratory, where, if reports 
 spoke truly, he pored over plans on which every fruit 
 tree belonging to him was mapped out, so that he could 
 reckon out his crops, so much to every vine stem ; and 
 his yield of timber, to a faggot. 
 
 The door of Eugenie's room was opposite this closed- 
 up portal, the room occupied by M. and Mme. Grandet 
 was at the end of the landing, and consisted of the entire 
 front of the house. It was divided within by a partition, 
 Mme. Grandet's chamber was next to Eugenie's, with 
 which it communicated by a glass door ; the other half of 
 the room, separated from the mysterious cabinet by a 
 thick wall, belonged to the master of the house. Good- 
 man Grandet had cunningly lodged his nephew on the 
 second story, in an airy garret immediately above his 
 own room, so that he could hear every sound and 
 inform himself of the young man's goings and comings, 
 if the latter should take it into his head to leave his 
 quarters. 
 
 Eugénie and her mother, arrived on the first landing, 
 kissed each other, and said goodnight ; they took leave of
 
 62 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Charles in a few formal words, spoken with an apparent 
 indifference, which in her heart the girl was far from 
 feeling, and went to their rooms. 
 
 'This is your room, nephew,' said Grandet, addressing 
 Charles as he opened the door. ' If you should wish to 
 go out, you will have to call Nanon ; for if you don't, 
 it will be " no more at present from your most obedient," 
 the dog will gobble you down before you know where 
 you are. Goodnight, sleep well. Ha ! ha ! the ladies 
 have lighted a fire in your room,' he went on. 
 
 Just at that moment big Nanon appeared, armed with 
 a warming-pan. 
 
 ' Did any one ever see the like ? ' said M. Grandet. 
 ' Do you take my nephew for a sick woman ; he is not 
 an invalid. Just be off, Nanon ! you and your hot 
 ashes.' 
 
 ' But the sheets are damp, sir, and the gentleman looks 
 as delicate as a woman.' 
 
 ' All right, go through with it, since you have taken 
 it into your head,' said Grandet, shrugging his shoulders, 
 ' but mind you don't set the place on fire,' and the 
 miser groped his way downstairs, muttering vaguely to 
 himself. 
 
 Charles, breathless with astonishment, was left among 
 his trunks. He looked round about him, at the sloping 
 roof of the attic, at the wallpaper of a pattern peculiar to 
 little country inns, bunches of flowers symmetrically 
 arranged on a buff-coloured background ; he looked at 
 the rough stone chimney-piece full of rifts and cracks 
 (the mere sight of it sent a chill through him, in spite of 
 the fire in the grate), at the ramshackle cane-seated chairs, 
 at the open night-table large enough to hold a fair-sized 
 sergeant-at-arms, at the strip of worn rag-carpet beside 
 the canopied bedstead, at the curtains which shook every 
 moment as if the whole worm-eaten structure would fall 
 to pieces ; finally, he turned his attention to big Nanon, 
 and said earnestly —
 
 Eugénie Grandet 63 
 
 ' Look here, my good girl, am I really in M. Grandet's 
 house ? M. Grandet, formerly Mayor of Saumur, and 
 brother of M. Grandet of Paris ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, sir, you are ; and you are staying with a very 
 kind, a very amiable and excellent gentleman. Am I 
 to help you to unpack those trunks of yours ? ' 
 
 'Faith, yes, old soldier, I wish you would. Did you 
 serve in the horse marines ? ' 
 
 * Oh ! oh ! oh ! ' chuckled Nanon. ' What may they 
 be .'' What are the horse marines ? Are they old salts ? 
 Do they go to sea ? ' 
 
 ' Here, look out my dressing-gown ; it is in that 
 portmanteau, and this is the key.' 
 
 Nanon was overcome with astonishment at the sight 
 of a green silk dressing-gown, embroidered with gold 
 flowers after an antique pattern. 
 
 ' Are you going to sleep in that ? ' she inquired. 
 «Yes.' 
 
 ' Holy Virgin ! What a beautiful altar cloth it would 
 make for the parish church ! Oh, my dear young 
 gentleman, you should give it to the Church, and you 
 will save your soul, which you are like to lose for that 
 thing. Oh ! how nice you look in it. I will go and 
 call mademoiselle to look at you.' 
 
 ' Come now, Nanon, since that is your name, will you 
 hold your tongue, and let me go to bed. I will set my 
 things straight to-morrow, and as you have taken such a 
 fancy to my gown, you shall have a chance to save your 
 soul. I am too good a Christian to take it away with mc 
 when I go ; you shall have it, and you can do whatever 
 you like with it.' 
 
 Nanon stood stockstill, staring at Charles ; she could 
 not bring herself to believe that he really meant what he 
 said. 
 
 ' You are going to give that grand dressing-gown to 
 me ! ' she said, as she turned to go. ' The gentleman is 
 dreaming already. Goodnight.'
 
 64 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' Good night, Nanon. — What ever am I doing here ? ' 
 said Charles to himself, as he dropped ofF to sleep. 
 ' My father is no fool ; I have not been sent here for 
 nothing. Pooh ! " Serious business to-morrow," as 
 some old Greek wiseacre used to say.' 
 
 ' Sainte Vierge ! how nice he is ! ' said Eugénie to 
 herself in the middle of her prayers, and that night they 
 remained unfinished. 
 
 Mme. Grandet alone lay down to rest, with no thought 
 in her quiet mind. Through the door in the thin 
 partition she could hear her husband pacing to and fro 
 in his room. Like all sensitive and timid women, she 
 had thoroughly studied the character of her lord and 
 master. Just as the sea-mew foresees the coming storm, 
 she knew by almost imperceptible signs that a tempest 
 was raging in Grandet's mind, and, to use her own ex- 
 pression, she 'lay like one dead ' at such seasons. Grandet's 
 eyes turned towards his sanctum ; he looked at the door, 
 which was lined with sheet iron on the inner side (he him- 
 self had seen to that), and muttered, 'What a preposterous 
 notion this is of my brother's, to leave his child to me ! 
 A pretty legacy ! I haven't twenty crowns to spare, 
 and what would twenty crowns be to a popinjay like 
 that, who looked at my weather-glass as if it wasn't fit 
 to light the fire with ? ' 
 
 And Grandet, meditating on the probable outcome of 
 this mournful dying request, was perhaps more perturbed 
 in spirit than the brother who had made it. 
 
 ' Shall I really have that golden gown ? ' Nanon said, 
 and she fell asleep wrapped round in her altar cloth, 
 dreaming for the first time in her life of shining 
 embroideries and flowered brocade, just as Eugenie 
 dreamed of love. 
 
 In a girl's innocent and uneventful life there comes a 
 mysterious hour of joy when the sunlight spreads through 
 the soul, and it seems to her that the flowers express the
 
 Eugénie Grandet 6^ 
 
 thoughts that rise within her, thoughts that are quickened 
 by every heart beat, only to blend in a vague feeling of 
 longing, when the days are filled with innocent 
 melancholy and delicious happiness. Children smile 
 when they see the light for the first time, and when a 
 girl dimly divines the presence of love in the world she 
 smiles as she smiled in her babyhood. If Hght is the 
 first thing that we learn to love, is not love like Hght 
 in the heart ? This moment had come for Eugénie : 
 she saw the things of life clearly for the first time. 
 
 Early rising is the rule in the country, so, like most 
 other girls, Eugénie was up betimes in the morning ; 
 this morning she rose earlier than usual, said her prayers, 
 and began to dress ; her toilette was henceforth to possess 
 an interest unknown before. She began by brushing her 
 chestnut hair, and wound the heavy plaits about her 
 head, careful that no loose ends should escape from the 
 braided coronet which made an appropriate setting for 
 a face both frank and shy, a simple coifiiire which 
 harmonised with the girlish outlines. 
 
 As she washed her hands again and again in the cold 
 spring water that roughened and reddened the skin, she 
 looked down at her pretty rounded arms and wondered 
 what her cousin did to have hands so soft and so white, 
 and nails so shapely. She put on a pair of new stockings, 
 and her best shoes, and laced herself carefully, without 
 passing over a single eyelet-hole. For the first time in 
 her life, in fact, she wished to look her best, and felt 
 that it was pleasant to have a pretty new dress to wear, 
 a becoming dress which was nicely made. 
 
 The church clock struck just as she had finished 
 dressing ; she counted the strokes, and was surprised to 
 find that it was still only seven o'clock. She had been 
 so anxious to have plenty of time for her toilette, that 
 she had risen too early, and now there was nothing left 
 to do. Eugénie, in her ignorance, never thought of 
 studying the position of a tress of hair, and of altering it 
 
 E
 
 66 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 a dozen times to criticise its effect ; she simply folded 
 her arms, sat down by the window, and looked out 
 upon the yard, the long strip of garden, and the terraced 
 gardens up above upon the ramparts. 
 
 It was a somewhat dreary outlook thus shut in by the 
 grim rock walls, but not without a charm of its own, the 
 mysterious beauty of quiet over-shaded gardens, or of 
 wild and solitary places. Under the kitchen window 
 there was a well with a stone coping round it ; a pulley 
 was suspended above the water from an iron bracket over- 
 grown by a vine ; the vine-leaves were red and faded 
 now that the autumn was nearly at an end, and the 
 crooked stem was plainly visible as it wound its way to 
 the house wall, and crept along the house till it came to an 
 end by the wood stack, where the faggots were arranged 
 with as much neatness and precision as thevolumeson some 
 book-lover's shelves. The flag-stones in the yard were dark 
 with age and mosses, and dank with the stagnant air of 
 the place ; weeds grew here and there among the chinks. 
 The massive outworks of the old fortifications were 
 green with moss, with here and there a long dark brown 
 streak where water dripped, and the eight tumble-down 
 steps, which gave access to the garden at the further 
 end of the yard, were almost hidden by a tall growth 
 of plants; the general effect of the crumbling stones 
 had a vague resemblance to some crusader's tomb erected 
 by his widow in the days of yore and long since fallen 
 into ruin. 
 
 Along the low mouldering stone wall there was a 
 fence of open lattice-work, rotten with age, and fast 
 falling to pieces ; overrun by various creeping plants 
 that clambered over it at their own sweet will. A 
 couple of stunted apple trees spread out their gnarled 
 and twisted branches on either side of the wicket gate 
 that led into the garden — three straight gravel walks 
 with strips of border in between, and a line of box- 
 edging on either side ; and, at the further end.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 67 
 
 underneath the ramparts, a sort of arbour of lime trees, 
 and a row of raspberry canes. A huge walnut tree 
 grew at the end nearest to the house, and almost over- 
 shadowed the cooper's strong room with its spreading 
 branches. 
 
 It was one of those soft bright autumn mornings 
 peculiar to the districts along the Loire ; there was not a 
 trace of mist ; the light frosty rime of the previous night 
 was rapidly disappearing as the mild rays of the autumn 
 sun shone on the picturesque surroundings, the old walls, 
 the green tangled growth in the yard and garden. 
 
 All these things had been long familiar to Eugenie's 
 eyes, but to-day it seemed to her that there was a new 
 beauty about them. A throng of confused thoughts 
 filled her mind as the sunbeams overflowed the world 
 without. A vague, inexplicable new happiness stirred 
 within her, and enveloped her soul, as a bright cloud 
 might cling about some object in the material world. 
 The quaint garden, the old walls, every detail in her 
 little world seemed to be living through this new ex- 
 perience with her ; the nature without her was in har- 
 mony with her inmost thoughts. The sunlight crept 
 along the wall till it reached a maiden-hair fern ; the 
 changing hues of a pigeon's breast shone from the thick 
 fronds and glossy stems, and all Eugenie's future grew 
 bright with radiant hopes. Henceforward the bit of wall, 
 its pale flowers, its blue harebells and bleached grasses, 
 was a pleasant sight for her ; it called up associations 
 which had all the charm of the memories of childhood. 
 
 The rustling sound made by the leaves as they fell 
 to the earth, the echoes that came up from the court, 
 seemed like answers to the girl's secret questionings 
 as she sat and mused ; she might have stayed there 
 by the window all day and never have noticed how 
 the hours went by, but other thoughts surged up within 
 her soul. Again and again she rose and stood before 
 the glass, and looked at herself, as a conscientious writer
 
 68 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 scrutinises his work, criticises it, and says hard things 
 about it to himself. 
 
 ' I am not pretty enough for him ! ' 
 
 This was what Eugénie thought, in her humility, and 
 the thought was fertile in suffering. The poor child did 
 not do herself justice ; but humility, or more truly, fear, 
 is born with love. Eugenie's beauty was of a robust type 
 often found among the lower middle classes, a type 
 which may seem somewhat wanting in refinement, but 
 in her the beauty of the Venus of Milo was ennobled 
 and purified by the beauty of Christian sentiment, which 
 invests woman with a dignity unknown to ancient 
 sculptors. Her head was very large ; the masculine but 
 delicate outlines of her forehead recalled the Jupiter of 
 Phidias ; all the radiance of her pure life seemed to shine 
 from the clear grey eyes. An attack of smallpox, so 
 mild that it had left no scars on the oval face or features, 
 had yet somewhat blurred their fresh fair colouring, and 
 coarsened the smooth and delicate surface, still so fine 
 and soft that her mother's gentle kiss left a passing trace 
 of faint red on her cheek. Perhaps her nose was a little 
 too large, but it did not contradict the kindly and affec- 
 tionate expression of the mouth, and the red lips covered 
 with finely-etched lines. Her throat was daintily rounded. 
 There was something that attracted attention and stirred 
 the imagination in the curving lines of her figure, covered 
 to the throat by her high-necked dress ; no doubt she 
 possessed little of the grace that is due to the toilette, and 
 her tall frame was strong rather than lissome, but this was 
 not without its charm for judges of beauty. 
 
 For Eugénie was both tall and strongly built. She 
 had nothing of the prettiness that ordinary people admire ; 
 but her beauty was unmistakable, and of a kind in which 
 artists alone delight. A painter in quest of an exalted 
 and spiritual type, searching women's flices for the beauty 
 which Raphael dreamed of and conjured into being, the 
 eyes full of proud humility, the pure outlines, often due
 
 Eugénie Grandet 6g 
 
 to some chance inspiration of the artist, but which a 
 virtuous and Christian Hfe can alone acquire or preserve, 
 — a painter haunted by this ideal would have seen at once 
 in Eugénie Grandet's face her unconscious and innate 
 nobility of soul, a world of love behind the quiet brow, 
 and in the way she had with her eyelids and in her eyes 
 that divine something which baffles description. There 
 was a serene tranquillity about her features, unspoiled 
 and unwearied by the expression of pleasure ; it was as if 
 you watched, across some placid lake, the shadowy out- 
 lines of hills far off against the sky. The beauty of 
 Eugenie's face, so quiet and so softly coloured, was like 
 that of some fair, half-opened flower about which the 
 light seems to hover ; in its quality of restfulness, its 
 subtle revelation of a beautiful nature, lay the charm that 
 attracted beholders. Eugénie was still on the daisied 
 brink of life, where illusions blossom and joys are gathered 
 which are not known in later days. So she looked in the 
 glass, and with no thought of love as yet in her mind, 
 she said, 'He will not give me a thought; I am too 
 ugly ! ' 
 
 Then she opened her door, went out on to the landing, 
 and bent over the staircase to hear the sounds in the 
 house. 
 
 ' He is not getting up yet,' she thought. She heard 
 Nanon's morning cough as the good woman went to and 
 fro, swept out the dining-room, lit the kitchen fire, 
 chained up the dog, and talked to her friends the brutes 
 in the stable. 
 
 Eugénie fled down the staircase, and ran over to Nanon, 
 who was milking the cow. 
 
 ' Nanon,' she cried, ' do let us have some cream for my 
 cousin's coffee, there's a dear.' 
 
 'But, mademoiselle, you can't have cream off this 
 morning's milk,' said Nanon, as she burst out laughing. 
 ' I can't make cream for you. Your cousin is as charm- 
 ing as charming can be, that he is ! You haven't seen
 
 70 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 him in that silk night rail of his, all flowers and gold ! 
 I did though ! The linen he wears is every bit as fine 
 as M. le Cure's surplice.' 
 
 ' Nanon, make some cake for us.' 
 
 'And who is to find the wood to heat the oven and 
 the flour and the butter ? ' asked Nanon, who in her 
 capacity of Grandet's prime minister was a person of 
 immense importance in Eugenie's eyes, and even in 
 Eugenie's mother's. ' Is he to be robbed to make a feast 
 for your cousin ? Ask for the butter and the flour and 
 the firewood ; he is your father, go and ask him, he may 
 give them to you. There ! there he is, just coming 
 downstairs to see after the provisions ' 
 
 But Eugénie had escaped into the garden ; the sound 
 of her father's footstep on the creaking staircase terrified 
 her. She was conscious of a happiness that shrank from 
 the observation of others, a happiness which, as we are 
 apt to think, and perhaps not without reason, shines from 
 our eyes, and is written at large upon our foreheads. And 
 not only so, she was conscious of other thoughts. The 
 bleak discomfort of her father's house had struck her for 
 the first time, and, with a dim feeling of vexation, the 
 poor child wished that she could alter it all, and bring it 
 more into harmony with her cousin's elegance. She felt 
 a passionate longing to do something for him, without 
 the slightest idea what that something should be. The 
 womanly instinct awakened in her at the first sight of her 
 cousin was only the stronger because she had reached her 
 three-and-twentieth year, and mind and heart were fully 
 developed ; and she was so natural and simple that she 
 acted on the promptings of her angelic nature without 
 submitting herself, her impressions, or her feelings to any 
 introspective process. 
 
 For the first time in her life the sight of her father 
 struck a sort of terror into her heart ; she felt that he 
 was the master of her fate, and that she was guiltily 
 hiding some of her thoughts from him. She began to
 
 Eugénie Grandet 71 
 
 walk hurriedly up and down, wondering how it was that 
 the air was so fresh ; there was a reviving force in the 
 sunhght, it seemed to be within her as well as without, 
 it was as if a new life had begun. 
 
 While she was still thinking how to gain her end 
 concerning the cake, a quarrel came to pass between 
 Nanon and Grandet, a thing as rare as a winter swallow. 
 The goodman had just taken his keys, and was about to 
 dole out the provisions required for the day. 
 
 ' Is there any bread left over from yesterday ? ' he asked 
 of Nanon. 
 
 ' Not a crumb, sir.' 
 
 Grandet took up a large loaf, round in form and close in 
 consistence, shaped in one of the flat baskets which they 
 use for baking in Anjou, and was about to cut it, when 
 Nanon broke in upon him with — 
 
 ' There are five of us to-day, sir.' 
 
 * True,' answered Grandet ; ' but these loaves of yours 
 weigh six pounds apiece ; there will be some left over. 
 Besides, these young fellows from Paris never touch 
 bread, as you will soon see.' 
 
 ' Then do they eat " kitchen " ? ' asked Nanon. 
 
 This word kitchen in the Angevin dictionary signifies 
 anything which is spread upon bread ; from butter, the 
 commonest variety, to preserved peaches, the most dis- 
 tinguished of all kitchens ; and those who, as small 
 children, have nibbled ofF the kitchen and left the bread, 
 will readily understand the bearing of Nanon's remark. 
 
 'No,' replied Grandet with much gravity, 'they eat 
 neither bread nor kitchen; they are like a girl in love, as 
 you may say.' 
 
 Having at length cut down the day's rations to the 
 lowest possible point, the miser was about to go to his 
 fruit-loft, first carefully locking up the cupboards of his 
 storeroom, when Nanon stopped him. 
 
 'Just give me some flour and butter, sir,' she said, 
 ' and I will make a cake for the children.'
 
 72 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' Are you going to turn the house upside down because 
 my nephew is here ? ' 
 
 ' Your nephew was no more in my mind than your 
 dog, no more than he was in yours. . . . There, now ! 
 you have only put out six lumps of sugar, and I want eight.' 
 
 ' Come, come, Nanon ; I have never seen you like this 
 before. What has come over you ? Are you mistress 
 here ? You will have six lumps of sugar and no more.' 
 
 ' Oh, very well ; and what is your nephew to sweeten 
 his coffee with ? ' 
 
 ' He can have two lumps ; I shall go without it myself.' 
 
 * lou go without sugar ! and at your age ! I would 
 sooner pay for it out of my own pocket.' 
 
 ' Mind your own business.' 
 
 In spite of the low price of sugar, it was, in Grandet's 
 eyes, the most precious of all colonial products. For him 
 it was always something to be used sparingly ; it was still 
 worth six francs a pound, as in the time of the Empire, and 
 this pet economy had become an inveterate habit with him. 
 But every woman, no matter how simple she may be, 
 can devise some shift to gain her ends ; and Nanon 
 allowed the question of the sugar to drop, in order to 
 have her way about the cake. 
 
 ' Mademoiselle,' she called through the window, 
 ' wouldn't you like some cake ? ' 
 
 ' No, no,' answered Eugénie. 
 
 ' Stay, Nanon,' said Grandet as he heard his daughter's 
 voice ; ' there ! ' 
 
 He opened the flour-bin, measured out some flour, 
 and added a few ounces of butter to the piece which he 
 had already cut. 
 
 ' And firewood ; I shall want firewood to heat the 
 oven,' said the inexorable Nanon. 
 
 ' Ah ! well, you can take what you want,' he answered 
 ruefully ; ' but you will make a fruit tart at the same 
 time, and you must bake the dinner in the oven, that 
 will save lighting another fire.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 73 
 
 ' ^ien ! ' cried Nanon ; ' there is no need to tell me 
 that ! ' 
 
 Grandet gave his trusty prime minister a glance that 
 was almost paternal. 
 
 ' Mademoiselle,' cried the cook, ' we are going to have 
 a cake.' 
 
 Grandet came back again with the fruit, and began by 
 setting down a plateful on the kitchen table. 
 
 ' Just look here, sir,' said Nanon, 'what lovely boots your 
 nephew has ! What leather, how nice it smells ! What 
 are they to be cleaned with ? Am I to put your egg- 
 blacking on them ? ' 
 
 ' No, Nanon,' said Eugénie ; ' I expect the egg would 
 spoil the leather. You had better tell him that you have 
 no idea how to clean black morocco. . . . Yes, it is 
 morocco, and he himself will buy you something in 
 Saumur to clean his boots with. I have heard it said 
 that they put sugar into their blacking, and that is what 
 makes it so shiny.' 
 
 ' Then is it good to eat ? ' asked the maid, as she 
 picked up the boots and smelt them. ' ^uien^ quien ! 
 they smell of madame's eau-de-Cologne ! Oh, how 
 funny ! ' 
 
 ' Funny ! ' said her master ; ' people spend more money 
 on their boots than they are worth that stand in them, 
 and you think it funny ! ' He had just returned from a 
 second and final expedition to the fruit-loft, carefully 
 locking the door after him. 
 
 ' You will have soup once or twice a week while your 
 nephew is here, sir, will you not ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 ' Shall I go round to the butcher's ? ' 
 
 ' You will do nothing of the kind. You can make 
 some chicken-broth; the tenants will keep you going. 
 But I shall tell Cornoiller to kill some ravens for me. 
 That kind of game makes the best broth in the world.' 
 
 ' Is it true, sir, that they live on dead things ? '
 
 74 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' You are a fool, Nanon ! They live, like everybody 
 else, on anything that they can pick up. Don't w^e all live 
 on dead things ? What about legacies ? ' And goodman 
 Grandet, having no further order to give, drew out his 
 watch, and finding that there was yet half an hour to 
 spare before breakfast, took up his hat, gave his daughter 
 a kiss, and said, ' Would you like to take a walk along 
 the Loire ? I have something to see after in the meadows 
 down there.' 
 
 Eugénie put on her straw hat lined with rose-coloured 
 silk ; and then father and daughter went down the 
 crooked street towards the market-place. 
 
 ' Where are you off to so early this morning ? ' said 
 the notary Cruchot, as he met the Grandets. 
 
 ' We are going to take a look at something,' responded 
 his friend, in nowise deceived by this early move on the 
 notary's part. 
 
 Whenever Grandet was about to ' take a look at some- 
 thing,' the notary knew by experience that there was 
 something to be gained by going with him. With him, 
 therefore, he went. 
 
 ' Come along, Cruchot,' said Grandet, addressing the 
 notary. ' You are one of my friends ; I am going to 
 show you what a piece of folly it is to plant poplars in 
 good soil ' 
 
 ' Then the sixty thousand francs that you fingered for 
 those poplars of yours in the meadows by the Loire are a 
 mere trifle to you ? ' said Cruchot, opening his eyes 
 wide in his bewilderment. ' And such luck as you had 
 too I . . . Felling your timber just when there was no 
 white wood to be had in Nantes, so that every trunk 
 fetched thirty francs ! ' 
 
 Eugénie heard and did not hear, utterly unconscious 
 that the most critical moment of her life was rapidly 
 approaching, that a paternal and sovereign decree was 
 about to be pronounced, and that the old notary was to 
 bring all this about. Grandet had reached the magnificent
 
 Eugénie Grandet 75 
 
 meadow-land by the Loire, which had come into his 
 hands in his RepubHcan days. Some thirty labourers 
 were busy digging out the roots of the poplars that once 
 stood there, filling up the holes that were left, and 
 levelling the ground. 
 
 ' Now, M. Cruchot, see how much space a poplar 
 takes up,' said he, addressing the notary. 'Jean,' he 
 called to a workman, ' m — m — measure r — round the 
 sides with your rule.' 
 
 ' Eight feet four times over,' said the workman when 
 he had finished. 
 
 ' Thirty-two feet of loss,' said Grandet to Cruchot. 
 ' Now along that line there were three hundred poplars, 
 weren't there ? Well, then, three hundred t — t — times 
 thirty-two f — feet will eat up five hundredweight of hay, 
 allow twice as much again for the space on either side, and 
 you get fifteen hundredweight ; then there is the interven- 
 ing space — say a thousand t — t — trusses of hay altogether.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Cruchot, helping his friend out, ' and a 
 thousand trusses of that hay would fetch something like 
 six hundred francs.' 
 
 ' S — s — say t — twelve hundred, because the s — second 
 crop is worth three or four hundred francs. Good, then 
 reckon up what t — t — twelve hundred francs per annum 
 d — d — during f — forty years comes to, at compound 
 interest of course.' 
 
 ' Sixty thousand francs, or thereabouts,' said the notary. 
 
 ' That is what I make it ! Sixty thousand f — f — francs. 
 Well,' the vinegrower went on without stammering, 
 ' two thousand poplars will not bring in fifty thousand 
 francs in forty years. So you lose on them. That / 
 found out,' said Grandet, who was vastly pleased with 
 himself. 'Jean,' he continued, turning to the labourer, 
 ' fill up all the holes except those along the riverside, 
 where you can plant those poplar saplings that I bought. 
 If you set them along by the Loire, they will grow there 
 finely at the expense of the Government,' he added, and
 
 76 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 as he looked round at Cruchot the wen on his nose 
 twitched sHghtly, the most sardonic smile could not have 
 said more. 
 
 ' Yes, it is clear enough, poplars should only be planted 
 in poor soil,' said Cruchot, quite overcome with amaze- 
 ment at Grandet's astuteness. 
 
 ' Y — e — s, sir,' said the cooper ironically. 
 
 Eugénie was looking out over the glorious landscape 
 and along the Loire, without heeding her father's 
 arithmetic ; but Cruchot's talk with his client took 
 another turn, and her attention was suddenly aroused. 
 
 ' So you have a son-in-law come from Paris ; they are 
 talking about nothing but your nephew in all Saumur. I 
 shall soon have settlements to draw up ; eh, père Grandet ? ' 
 
 ' Did you come out early to t — t — tell me that ? ' 
 inquired Grandet, and again the wen twitched. ' Very 
 well, you are an old crony of mine ; I will be p — plain 
 with you, and t — t — tell you what you w — want to 
 know. I would rather fling my d — d — daughter into 
 the Loire, look you, than g — give her to her cousin. 
 You can give that out. But, no; 1 — 1 — let people 
 gossip.' 
 
 Everything swam before Eugenie's eyes. Her vague 
 hopes of distant happiness had suddenly taken definite 
 shape, had sprung up and blossomed, and then her harvest 
 of flowers had been as suddenly cut down and lay on 
 the earth. Since yesterday she had woven the bonds of 
 happiness that unite two souls, and henceforward sorrow, it 
 seemed, was to strengthen them. Is it not written in 
 the noble destiny of woman that the grandeur of sorrow 
 should touch her more closely than all the pomp and 
 splendour of fortune ? 
 
 How came it that a father's feelings had been extin- 
 guished (as it seemed) in her father's heart ? What 
 crime could be laid at Charles's door ? Mysterious 
 questions ! Mysterious and sad forebodings already sur- 
 rounded her growing love, that mystery within her soul.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 77 
 
 When they turned to go home again, she trembled in 
 every limb ; and as they went up the shady street, along 
 which she had lately gone so joyously, the shadows looked 
 gloomy, the air she breathed seemed full of the melan- 
 choly of autumn, everything about her was sad. Love, 
 that had brought these keener perceptions, was quick to 
 interpret every boding sign. As they neared home, she 
 walked on ahead of her father, knocked at the house door, 
 and stood waiting beside it. But Grandet, seeing that 
 the notary carried a newspaper still in its wrapper, asked, 
 ' How are consols ? ' 
 
 ' I know you will not take my advice, Grandet,' 
 Cruchot replied. ' You should buy at once ; the chance 
 of making twenty per cent, on them in two years is still 
 open to you, and they pay a very fair rate of interest 
 besides, five thousand livres is not a bad return on eighty 
 thousand francs. You can buy now at eighty francs 
 fifty centimes. ' 
 
 ' We shall see,' remarked Grandet pensively, rubbing 
 his chin. 
 
 ' A4on Dieu ! ' exclaimed the notary, who by this time 
 had unfolded his newspaper. 
 
 ' Well, what is it ? ' cried Grandet as Cruchot put the 
 paper in his hands and said — 
 
 ' Read that paragraph.' 
 
 'M. Grandet, one of the most highly respected 
 merchants in Paris, shot himself through the head 
 yesterday afternoon, after putting in an appearance on 
 Change as usual. He had previously sent in his resigna- 
 tion to the President of the Chamber of Deputies, resign- 
 ing his position as Judge of the Tribunal of Commerce 
 at the same time. His afi^airs had become involved 
 through the failures of his stockbroker and notary, MM. 
 Roguin and Souchet. M. Grandet, whose character was 
 very greatly esteemed, and whose credit stood high, 
 would no doubt have found temporary assistance on the
 
 78 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 market which would have enabled him to tide over his 
 difficulties. It is to be regretted that a man of such high 
 character should have given way to the first impulse of 
 despair ' — and so forth, and so forth. 
 
 'I knew it,' the old vinegrower said. 
 
 Phlegmatic though Cruchot was, he felt a horrible 
 shudder run through him at the words ; perhaps Grandet 
 of Paris had stretched imploring hands in vain to the 
 millions of Grandet of Saumur ; the blood ran cold in his 
 veins. 
 
 * And his son ? ' he asked presently ; 'he was in such 
 spirits yesterday evening.' 
 
 ' His son knows nothing as yet,' Grandet answered, 
 imperturbable as ever. 
 
 'Good morning, M. Grandet,' said Cruchot. He 
 understood the position now, and went to reassure the 
 President de Bonfons. 
 
 Grandet found breakfast ready. Mme. Grandet was 
 already seated in her chair, mounted on the wooden blocks, 
 and was knitting woollen cufFs for the winter. Eugénie 
 ran to her mother and put her arms about her, with the 
 eager hunger for affection that comes of a hidden trouble. 
 
 'You can get your breakfast,' said Nanon, bustling 
 downstairs in a hurry ; 'he is sleeping like a cherub. 
 He looks so nice with his eyes shut ! I went in and 
 called him, but it was all one, he never heard me.' 
 
 'Let him sleep,' said Grandet; 'he will wake soon 
 enough to hear bad news, in any case.' 
 
 ' What is the matter ? ' asked Eugénie. She was 
 putting into her cup the two smallest lumps of sugar, 
 weighing goodness knows how many grains ; her worthy 
 parent was wont to amuse himself by cutting up sugar 
 whenever he had nothing better to do. 
 
 Mme. Grandet, who had not dared to put the question 
 herself, looked at her husband. 
 
 ' His father has blown his brains out.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 79 
 
 ' My uncle ? ' said Eugénie. 
 
 ' Oh ! that poor boy ! ' cried Mme. Grandet. 
 
 ' Poor indeed ! ' said Grandet ; 'he has not a penny.' 
 
 ' Ah ! well, he is sleeping as if he were the king of all 
 the world,' said Nanon pityingly. 
 
 Eugénie could not eat. Her heart was wrung as a 
 woman's heart can be when for the first time her whole 
 soul is filled with sorrow and compassion for the sorrow 
 of one she loves. She burst into tears. 
 
 ' You did not know your uncle, so what is there to 
 cry about ? ' said her father with a glance like a hungry 
 tiger's ; just such a glance as he would give, no doubt, 
 to his heaps of gold. 
 
 ' But who wouldn't feel sorry for the poor young man, 
 sir ? ' said the serving-maid ; ' sleeping there like a log, 
 and knowing nothing of his fate.' 
 
 ' I did not speak to you, Nanon ! Hold your tongue.' 
 
 In that moment Eugénie learned that a woman who 
 loves must dissemble her feelings. She was silent. 
 
 ' Until I come back, Mme. Grandet, you will say 
 nothing about this to him, I hope,' the old cooper con- 
 tinued. 'They are making a ditch in my meadows along 
 the road, and I must go and see after it. I shall come back 
 for the second breakfast at noon, and then my nephew 
 and I will have a talk about his affairs. As for you. 
 Mademoiselle Eugénie, if you are crying over that popin- 
 jay, let us have no more of it, child. He will be off" 
 poste-haste to the Indies directly, and you will never set 
 eyes on hi?n any more.' 
 
 Her father took up his gloves, which were lying on 
 the rim of his hat, put them on in his cool, deliberate 
 way, inserting the fingers of one hand between those of 
 the other, dovetail fashion, so as to thrust them down 
 well into the tips of the gloves, and then he went out. 
 
 ' Oh ! mamma, I can scarcely breathe ! ' cried Eugénie 
 when she was alone with her mother ; ' I have never 
 suffered like this ! '
 
 8o Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Mme. Grandet, seeing her daughter's white face, 
 opened the window and let fresh air into the room. 
 
 * I feel better now,' said Eugénie after a little. 
 
 This nervous excitement in one who was usually so 
 quiet and self-possessed produced an effect on Mme. 
 Grandet. She looked at her daughter, and her mother's 
 love and sympathetic instinct told her everything. But, 
 in truth, the celebrated Hungarian twin-sisters, united to 
 each other by one of Nature's errors, could scarcely have 
 lived in closer sympathy than Eugénie and her mother. 
 Were they not always together ; together in the window 
 where they sat the livelong day, together at church, did 
 they not breathe the same air even when they slept ? 
 
 ' My poor little girl ! ' said Mme. Grandet, drawing 
 Eugenie's head down till it rested upon her bosom. 
 
 Her daughter lifted her face, and gave her mother a 
 questioning look which seemed to read her inmost 
 thoughts. 
 
 ' Why must he be sent to the Indies ? ' said the girl. 
 ' If he is in trouble, ought he not to stay here with us ? 
 Is he not our nearest relation ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, dear child, that would only be natural ; but your 
 father has reasons for what he does, and we must respect 
 them.' 
 
 Mother and daughter sat in silence ; the one on her 
 chair mounted on the wooden blocks, the other in her 
 little armchair. Both women took up their needlework. 
 Eugénie felt that her mother understood her, and her 
 heart was full of gratitude for such tender sympathy. 
 
 ' How kind you are, dear mamma ! ' she said as she 
 took her mother's hand and kissed it. 
 
 The worn, patient face, aged with many sorrows, 
 lighted up at the words. 
 
 ' Do you like him ? ' asked Eugénie. 
 
 For all answer, Mme. Grandet smiled. Then after a 
 moment's pause she murmured, ' You cannot surely love 
 him already ? That would be a pity.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 8i 
 
 'Why would it be a pity ? * asked Eugénie. 'You like 
 him, Nanon likes him, why should I not like him too ? 
 Now then, mamma, let us set the table for his breakfast.' 
 
 She threw down her work, and her mother followed 
 her example, saying as she did so, ' You are a mad girl ! ' 
 
 But none the less did she sanction her daughter's freak 
 by assisting in it. 
 
 Eugénie called Nanon. 
 
 ' Haven't you all you want yet, mamselle ? ' 
 
 ' Nanon, surely you will have some cream by twelve 
 o'clock ? ' 
 
 ' By twelve o'clock ? Oh ! yes,' answered the old 
 servant. 
 
 'Very well, then, let the coffee be very strong. I 
 have heard M. des Grassins say that they drink their 
 coffee very strong in Paris. Put in plenty.' 
 
 ' And where is it to come from ? ' 
 
 ' You must buy some."* 
 
 ' And suppose the master meets me ? ' 
 
 ' He is down by the river.' 
 
 'I will just slip out then. But M. Fessard asked me 
 when I went about the candle if the Three Holy Kings 
 were paying us a visit. Our goings on will be all over 
 the town.' 
 
 ' Your father would be quite capable of beating us,' 
 said Mme. Grandet, ' if he suspected anything of all this.' 
 
 ' Oh ! well, then, never mind ; he will beat us, we 
 will take the beating on our knees.' 
 
 At this Mme. Grandet raised her eyes to heaven, and 
 said no more. Nanon put on her sun-bonnet and went 
 out. Eugénie spread a clean linen tablecloth, then she 
 went upstairs in quest of some bunches of grapes which 
 she had amused herself by hanging from some strings up 
 in the attic. She tripped lightly along the corridor, so as 
 not to disturb her cousin, and could not resist the tempta- 
 tion to stop a moment before the door to listen to his 
 even breathing. 
 
 F
 
 82 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 'Trouble wakes while he is sleeping,' she said to 
 herself. 
 
 She arranged her grapes on the few last green vine 
 leaves as daintily as any experienced chef d'office^ and set 
 them on the table in triumph. She levied contributions 
 on the pears which her father had counted out, and piled 
 them up pyramid-fashion, with autumn leaves among 
 them. She came and went, and danced in and out. She 
 might have ransacked the house ; the will was in nowise 
 lacking, but her father kept everything under lock and 
 key, and the keys were in his pocket. Nanon came back 
 with two new-laid eggs. Eugénie could have flung her 
 arms round the girl's neck. 
 
 ' The farmer from La Lande had eggs in his basket ; I 
 asked him for some, and to please me he let me have 
 these, the nice man.' 
 
 After two hours of industrious application, Eugénie 
 succeeded in preparing a very simple meal ; it cost but 
 little, it is true, but it was a terrible infringement of the 
 immemorial laws and customs of the house. No one sat 
 down to the mid-day meal, which consisted of a little bread, 
 some fruit or butter, and a glass of wine. Twenty times 
 in those two hours Eugénie had left her work to watch the 
 coffee boil, or to listen for any sound announcing that her 
 cousin was getting up ; now looking round on the table 
 drawn up to the fire, with one of the armchairs set beside 
 it for her cousin, on the two plates of fruit, the egg-cups, 
 the bottle of white wine, the bread, and the little pyramid 
 of white sugar in a saucer ; Eugénie trembled from head 
 to foot at the mere thought of the glance her father 
 would give her if he should happen to come in at that 
 moment. Often, therefore, did she look at the clock, to 
 see if there was yet time for her cousin to finish his 
 breakfast before her parent's return. 
 
 'Never mind, Eugénie, if your father comes in, I will 
 take all the blame,' said Mme. Grandet. 
 
 Eugénie could not keep back the tears. ' Oh !
 
 Eugénie Grandet 83 
 
 my kind mother,' she cried ; ' I have not loved you 
 enough ! ' 
 
 Charles, after making innumerable pirouettes round his 
 room, came dovi^n at last, singing gay little snatches of 
 song. Luckily it was only eleven o'clock after all. 
 He had taken as much pains with his appearance (the 
 Parisian ! ) as if he had been staying in the château 
 belonging to the high-born fair one who was travelling 
 in Scotland ; and now he came in with that gracious 
 air of condescension which sits not ill on youth, and 
 which gave Eugénie a melancholy pleasure. He had 
 come to regard the collapse of his castles in Anjou 
 as a very good joke, and went up to his aunt quite 
 gaily. 
 
 ' I hope you slept well, dear aunt ? And you too, 
 cousin ? ' 
 
 ' Very well, sir ; how did you sleep ! ' 
 
 ' Soundly.' 
 
 ' Cousin, you must be hungry,' said Eugénie ; ' sit 
 down.' 
 
 ' Oh ! I never breakfast before twelve o'clock, just 
 after I rise. But I have fared so badly on my journey, 
 
 that I will yield to persuasion. Besides ' he drew 
 
 out the daintiest little watch that ever issued from 
 Bréguet's workshop. ' Dear me, it is only eleven 
 o'clock ; I have been up betimes.' 
 
 'Up betimes?' asked Mme. Grandet. 
 
 ' Yes, but I wanted to set my things straight. Well, 
 I am quite ready for something, something not very 
 substantial, a fowl or a partridge.' 
 
 ' Holy Virgin ! ' exclaimed Nanon, hearing these 
 words. 
 
 'A partridge,' Eugenie said to herself. She would 
 willingly have given all she had for one. 
 
 'Come and take your seat,' said Mme. Grandet, 
 addressing her nephew. 
 
 The dandy sank into the armchair in a graceful
 
 $4 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 attitude, much as a pretty woman might recline on her 
 sofa. Eugénie and her mother drew their chairs to 
 the fire and sat near him. 
 
 ' Do you always live here?' Charles inquired, thinking 
 that the room looked even more hideous by daylight 
 than by candle light. 
 
 ' Always,' Eugénie answered, watching him as she 
 spoke. ' Always, except during the vintage. Then 
 we go to help Nanon, and we all stay at the Abbey 
 at Noyers.' 
 
 ' Do you never take a walk ? ' 
 
 'Sometimes, on Sundays after vespers, when it is fine, 
 we walk down as far as the bridge,' said Mme. Grandet, 
 'or we sometimes go to see them cutting the hay.' 
 
 ' Have you a theatre here ? ' 
 
 'Go to the play ! ' cried Mme. Grandet ; 'go to see 
 play-actors ! Why, sir, do you not know that that is a 
 mortal sin ? ' 
 
 ' There, sir,' said Nanon, bringing in the eggs, ' we 
 will give you chickens in the shell.' 
 
 ' Oh ! new-laid eggs,' said Charles, who, after the 
 manner of those accustomed to luxury, had quite for- 
 gotten all about his partridge. ' Delicious ! Do you 
 happen to have any butter, eh, my good girl ? ' 
 
 ' Butter ? If you have butter now, you will have no 
 cake by-and-by,' said the handmaid. 
 
 ' Yes, of course, Nanon ; bring some butter,' cried 
 Eugénie. 
 
 The young girl watched her cousin while he cut his 
 bread and butter into strips, and felt happy. The most 
 romantic shop-girl in Paris could not more thoroughly 
 enjoy the spectacle of innocence triumphant in a melo- 
 drama. It must be conceded that Charles, who had 
 been brought up by a graceful and charming mother, 
 and had received his ' finishing education ' from an 
 accomplished woman of the world, was as dainty, neat, 
 and elegant in his ways as any coxcomb of the gentler
 
 Eugénie Grandet 85 
 
 sex. The girl's quiet sympathy produced an almost 
 magnetic effect. Charles, finding himself thus waited 
 upon by his cousin and aunt, could not resist the influence 
 of their overflowing kindness. He was radiant with 
 good-humour, and the look he gave Eugénie was almost 
 a smile. As he looked at her more closely he noticed 
 her pure, regular features, her unconscious attitude, the 
 wonderful clearness of her eyes, in which love sparkled, 
 though she as yet knew nothing of love but its pain and 
 a wistful longing. 
 
 ' Really, my dear cousin,' he said, ' if you were in 
 a box at the opera and in evening dress, and I would 
 answer for it, my aunt's remark about deadly sin would 
 be justified, all the men would be envious, and all the 
 women jealous.' 
 
 Eugenie's heart beat fast with joy at this compli- 
 ment, though it conveyed no meaning whatever to her 
 mind. 
 
 'You are laughing at a poor little country cousin,' she 
 said. 
 
 ' If you knew me better, cousin, you would know that 
 I detest banter ; it sears the heart and deadens the 
 feelings.' And he swallowed down a strip of bread and 
 butter with perfect satisfaction. 
 
 ' No,' he continued, ' I never make fun of others, 
 very likely because I have not wit enough, a defect 
 which puts me at a great disadvantage. They have 
 a deadly trick in Paris of saying, " He is so good-natured," 
 which, being interpreted, means — "the poor youth is 
 as stupid as a rhinoceros." But as I happen to be 
 rich, and it is known that I can hit the bull's eye straight 
 off at thirty paces with any kind of pistol anywhere, these 
 witticisms are not levelled at me,' 
 
 ' It is evident from what you say, nephew,' said Mme. 
 Grandet gravely, ' that you have a kind heart.' 
 
 ' That is a very pretty ring of yours,' said Eugénie ; 
 ' is there any harm in asking to see it ? '
 
 86 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Charles took ofF the ring and held it out ; Eugénie 
 reddened as her cousin's rose-pink nails came in contact 
 with her finger-tips. 
 
 ' Mother, only see how fine the work is ! ' 
 
 ' Oh, what a lot of gold there is in it ! ' said Nanon, 
 who brought in the coffee. 
 
 * What is that ? ' asked Charles, laughing, as he pointed 
 to an oval pipkin, made of glazed brown earthenware, 
 ornamented without by a circular fringe of ashes. It 
 was full of a brown boiling liquid, in which coffee 
 grounds were visible as they rose to the surface and fell 
 again. 
 
 'Coffee ; boiling hot ! ' answered Nanon. 
 
 ' Oh ! my dear aunt, I must at least leave some 
 beneficent trace of my stay here. You are a long way 
 behind the times ! I will show you how to make decent 
 coffee in a cafetière à la Clwptal.'' Forthwith he 
 endeavoured to explain the principles on which this 
 utensil is constructed. 
 
 ' Bless me ! if there is all that to-do about it,' said 
 Nanon, ' you would have to give your whole time to it. 
 I ' 11 never make coffee that way, I know. Who is to 
 cut the grass for our cow while I am looking after the 
 coffee pot ? ' 
 
 ' I would do it,' said Eugénie. 
 
 ' Child ! ' said Mme. Grandet, with a look at her 
 daughter ; and at the word came a swift recollection 
 of the misery about to overwhelm the unconscious 
 young man, and the three women were suddenly silent, 
 and gazed pityingly at him. He could not understand it. 
 
 'What is it, cousin ? ' he asked Eugenie. 
 
 ' Hush ! ' said Mme. Grandet, seeing that the girl 
 was about to reply. ' You know that your father means 
 to speak to the gentleman ' 
 
 'Say "Charles,"' said young Grandet. 
 
 ' Oh, is your name Charles ? ' said Eugenie. ' It is a 
 nice name.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 87 
 
 Evil forebodings are seldom vain. 
 
 Just at that moment Mme. Grandet, Eugénie, and 
 Nanon, who could not think of the cooper's return 
 without shuddering, heard the familiar knock at the 
 door. 
 
 ' That is papa ! ' cried Eugénie. 
 
 She took away the saucer full of sugar, leaving one or 
 two lumps on the tablecloth. Nanon hurried away with 
 the egg-cups. Mme. Grandet started up like a frightened 
 fawn. There was a sudden panic of terror, which 
 amazed Charles, who was quite at a loss to account for it. 
 
 ' Why, what is the matter ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' My father is coming in,' explained Eugénie. 
 
 ' Well, and what then ? ' 
 
 M. Grandet entered the room, gave one sharp glance 
 at the table, and another at Charles. He saw how it was 
 at once. 
 
 'Aha ! you are making a fête for your nephew. 
 Good, very good, oh ! very good, indeed ! ' he said, 
 without stammering. ' When the cat is away, the mice 
 may play.' 
 
 ' Fête ? ' thought Charles, who had not the remotest 
 conception of the state of affairs in the Grandet house- 
 hold. 
 
 ' Bring me my glass, Nanon,' said the goodman. 
 
 Eugénie went for the glass. Grandet drew from his 
 waistcoat pocket a large clasp-knife with a stag's horn 
 handle, cut a slice of bread, buttered it slowly and 
 sparingly, and began to eat as he stood. Just then 
 Charles put some sugar into his coffee; this called 
 Grandet's attention to the pieces of sugar on the table ; 
 he looked hard at his wife, who turned pale, and came 
 a step or two towards him ; he bent down and said in 
 the poor woman's ear — 
 
 ' Where did all that sugar come from ? ' 
 
 ' Nanon went out to Fessard's for some ; there was 
 none in the house.''
 
 88 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 It is impossible to describe the painful interest that 
 this dumb show possessed for the three women ; Nanon 
 had left her kitchen, and was looking into the dining- 
 room to see how things went there. Charles meanwhile 
 tasted his coffee, found it rather strong, and looked 
 round for another piece of sugar, but Grandet had 
 already pounced upon it and taken it away. 
 
 ' What do you want, nephew ? ' the old man in- 
 quired. 
 
 ' The sugar.' 
 
 ' Pour in some more milk if your coffee is too strong,' 
 answered the master of the house. 
 
 Eugénie took up the saucer, of which Grandet had 
 previously taken possession, and set it on the table, 
 looking quietly at her father the while. Truly, the 
 fair Parisian who exerts all the strength of her weak arms 
 to help her lover to escape by a ladder of silken cords, 
 displays less courage than Eugénie showed when she 
 put the sugar upon the table. The Parisian will 
 have her reward. She will proudly exhibit the bruises 
 on a round white arm, her lover will bathe them with 
 tears and cover them with kisses, and pain will be 
 extinguished in bliss ; but Charles had not the remotest 
 conception of what his cousin endured for him, or of the 
 horrible dismay that filled her heart as she met her 
 father's angry eyes; he would never even know of her 
 sacrifice. 
 
 ' You are eating nothing, wife ? ' 
 
 The poor bond-slave went to the table, cut a piece of 
 bread in fear and trembling, and took a pear. Eugénie, 
 grown reckless, offered the grapes to her father, saying 
 as she did so — 
 
 'Just try some of my fruit, papa! You will take 
 some, will you not, cousin ? I brought those pretty 
 grapes down on purpose for you.' 
 
 ' Oh ! if they could have their way, they would 
 turn Saumur upside down for you, nephew ! As soon
 
 Eugénie Grandet 89 
 
 as you have finished we will take a turn in the garden 
 together; I have some things to tell you that would take 
 a deal of sugar to sweeten them.' 
 
 Eugénie and her mother both gave Charles a look, 
 which the young man could not mistake. 
 
 ' What do you mean by that, uncle ? ' since my 
 mother died . . , (here his voice softened a little) there 
 is no misfortune possible for me . . . ' 
 
 ' Who can know what afflictions God may send to 
 make trial of us, nephew,' said his aunt. 
 
 'Tut, tut, tut,' muttered Grandet, 'here you are 
 beginning with your folly already ! I am sorry to see 
 that you have such white hands, nephew.' 
 
 He displayed the fists, like shoulders of mutton, with 
 which nature had terminated his own arms. 
 
 'That is the sort of hand to rake the crowns 
 together ! You put the kind of leather on your feet 
 that we used to make pocket-books of to keep bills in. 
 That is the way you have been brought up. That's 
 bad ! that's bad ! ' 
 
 ' What do you mean, uncle ? I'll be hanged if I 
 understand one word of this.' 
 
 ' Come along,' said Grandet. 
 
 The miser shut his knife with a snap, drained his glass, 
 and opened the door. 
 
 ' Oh ! keep up your courage, cousin ! ' 
 
 Something in the girl's voice sent a sudden chill 
 through Charles ; he followed his formidable relative 
 with dreadful misgivings. Eugénie and her mother and 
 Nanon went into the kitchen ; an uncontrollable anxiety 
 led them to watch the two actors in the scene which 
 was about to take place in the damp little garden. 
 
 Uncle and nephew walked together in silence at first. 
 Grandet felt the situation to be a somewhat awkward 
 one ; not that he shrank at all from telling Charles 
 of his father's death, but he felt a kind of pity for a 
 young man left in this way without a penny in the
 
 90 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 world, and he cast about for phrases that should break 
 this cruel news as gently as might be. ' You have lost 
 your father ! ' he could say that ; there was nothing in 
 that; fathers usually predecease their children. But, 
 ' You have not a penny ! ' All the woes of the world 
 were summed up in those words, so for the third time 
 the worthy man walked the whole length of the path 
 in the centre of the garden, crunching the gravel 
 beneath his heavy boots, and no word was said. 
 
 At all great crises in our lives, any sudden joy or 
 great sorrow, there comes a vivid consciousness of our 
 surroundings that stamps them on the memory for ever ; 
 and Charles, with every faculty strained and intent, saw 
 the box-edging to the borders, the falling autumn leaves, 
 the mouldering walls, the gnarled and twisted boughs 
 of the fruit-trees, and till his dying day every 
 picturesque detail of the little garden came back 
 with the memory of the supreme hour of that early 
 sorrow. 
 
 ' It is very fine, very warm,' said Grandet, drawing 
 in a deep breath of air. 
 
 ' Yes, uncle, but why ' 
 
 'Well, my boy,' his uncle resumed, 'I have some bad 
 news for you. Your father is very ill , . .' 
 
 ' What am I doing here ? ' cried Charles. ' Nanon ! ' he 
 shouted, ' order post horses! I shall be sure to find a 
 carriage of some sort in the place, I suppose,' he added, 
 turning to his uncle, who had not stirred from where 
 he stood. 
 
 ' Horses and a carriage are of no use,' Grandet answered, 
 looking at Charles, who immediately stared straight 
 before him in silence. 'Yes, my poor boy, you guess 
 what has happened ; he is dead. But that is nothing ; 
 there is something worse ; he has shot himself through 
 the head ' 
 
 ^ My father?' 
 
 'Yes, but that is nothing cither. The newspapers
 
 Eugénie Grandet 91 
 
 are discussing it, as if it were any business of theirs. 
 There, read for yourself.' 
 
 Grandet had borrowed Cruchot's paper, and now he 
 laid the fatal paragraph before Charles. The poor 
 young fellow — he was only a lad as yet— made no attempt 
 to hide his emotion, and burst into tears. 
 
 ' Come, that is better,' said Grandet to himself. 
 ' That look in his eyes frightened me. He is crying ; 
 he will pull through. — Never mind, my poor nephew,' 
 Grandet resumed aloud, not knowing whether Charles 
 heard him or no, 'that is nothing, you will get over it, 
 but ' 
 
 ' Never ! never ! My father ! my father ! ' 
 
 ' He has ruined you ; you are penniless.' 
 
 ' What is that to me. Where is my father ? . . . 
 my father ! ' The sound of his sobbing filled the little 
 garden, reverberated in ghastly echoes from the walls. 
 Tears are as infectious as laughter ; the three women 
 wept with pity for him. Charles broke from his uncle 
 without waiting to hear more, and sprang into the yard, 
 found the staircase, and fled to his own room, where he 
 flung himself across the bed and buried his face in the 
 bedclothes, that he might give way to his grief in 
 soHtude as far as possible from these relations. 
 
 'Let him alone till the first shower is over,' said 
 Grandet, going back to the parlour. Eugénie and her 
 mother had hastily returned to their places, had 
 dried their eyes, and were sewing with cold trembling 
 fingers. 
 
 'But that fellow is good for nothing,' went on 
 Grandet ; 'he is so taken up with dead folk that he 
 doesn't even think about the money.' 
 
 Eugénie shuddered to hear the most sacred of sorrows 
 spoken of in such a way ; from that moment she began 
 to criticise her father. Charles's sobs, smothered though 
 they were, rang through that house of echoes ; the 
 sounds seemed to come from under the earth, a heart-
 
 92 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 rending wail that grew fainter towards the end of the 
 day, and only ceased as night drew on. 
 
 ' Poor boy ! ' said Mme. Grandet. 
 
 It was an unfortunate remark ! Goodman Grandet 
 looked at his wife, then at Eugénie, then at the sugar 
 basin ; he recollected the sumptuous breakfast prepared 
 that morning for their unhappy kinsman, and planted 
 himself in the middle of the room. 
 
 ' Oh ! by the by,' he said, in his usual cool, deliberate 
 way, ' I hope you will not carry your extravagance 
 any further, Mme. Grandet ; I do not give you MY 
 money for you to squander it on sugar for that young 
 rogue.' 
 
 'Mother had nothing whatever to do with it,' said 
 Eugénie. ' It was I ' 
 
 ' Because you are come of age,' Grandet interrupted 
 his daughter, ' you think you can set yourself to thwart 
 me, I suppose ? Mind what you are about, Eugénie- ' 
 
 ' But, father, your own brother's son ought not to 
 have to go without sugar in your house.' 
 
 ' Tut, tut, tut, tut ! ' came from the cooper in a 
 cadence of four semitones. ' 'Tis " my nephew " here, 
 and " my brother's son " there ; Charles is nothing to us, 
 he has not a brass farthing. His father is a bankrupt, 
 and when the young sprig has cried as much as he 
 wishes, he shall clear out of this ; I will not have my 
 house turned topsy-turvy for him.' 
 
 ' What is a bankrupt, father ? ' asked Eugénie. 
 
 ' A bankrupt,' replied her father, ' is guilty of the 
 most dishonourable action that can dishonour a man.' 
 
 ' It must be a very great sin,' said Mme. Grandet, 
 'and our brother will perhaps be eternally lost.' 
 
 ' There you are with your preachments,' her husband 
 retorted, shrugging his shoulders. 'A bankrupt, 
 Eugénie,' her father continued, ' is a thief whom the 
 law unfortunately takes under its protection. People 
 trusted Guillaume Grandet with their goods, confiding
 
 Eugénie Grandet 93 
 
 in his character for fair-dealing and honesty ; he has taken 
 all they have, and left them nothing but the eyes in their 
 heads to cry over their losses with. A bankrupt is worse than 
 a highwayman ; a highwayman sets upon you, and you 
 have a chance to defend yourself; he risks his life besides, 
 while the other Charles is disgraced in fact.' 
 
 The words filled the poor girl's heart ; they weighed 
 upon her with all their weight ; she herself was so 
 scrupulously conscientious; no flower in the depths of 
 a forest had grown more delicately free from spot or 
 stain ; she knew none of the maxims of worldly wisdom, 
 and nothing of its quibbles and its sophistries. So she 
 accepted her father's cruel definition and sweeping 
 statements as to bankrupts ; he drew no distinction 
 between a fraudulent bankruptcy and a failure from 
 unavoidable causes, and how should she ? 
 
 ' But, father, could you not have prevented this mis- 
 fortune ? ' 
 
 ' My brother did not ask my advice ; besides, his 
 liabilities amount to four millions.' 
 
 ' How much is a million, father ? ' asked Eugénie, with 
 the simplicity of a child who would fain have its wish 
 fulfilled at once. 
 
 ' A million ? ' queried Grandet. ' Why, it is a million 
 francs, four hundred thousand five-franc pieces ; there 
 are twenty sous in a franc, and it takes five francs of 
 twenty sous each to make a five-franc piece.' 
 
 ' Mon Dieu ! Mon Dieu ! ' cried Eugénie, ' how came 
 my uncle to have four millions of his own ? Is there 
 really anybody in France who has so many millions as 
 that ? ' 
 
 Grandet stroked his daughter's chin and smiled. The 
 wen seemed to grow larger. 
 
 ' What will become of cousin Charles ? ' 
 
 ' He will set out for the East Indies, and try to make 
 a fortune. That is his father's wish.' 
 
 ' But has he any money to go with ? '
 
 94 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' I shall pay his passage out as far as . . . yes ... as 
 far as Nantes.' 
 
 Eugénie sprang up and flung her arms about her 
 father's neck. 
 
 'Oh ! father,' she said, 'you are good ! ' 
 
 Her warm embrace embarrassed Grandet somewhat, 
 perhaps, too, his conscience was not quite at ease. 
 
 ' Does it take a long while to make a million ? ' she 
 asked. 
 
 ' Lord ! yes,' said the cooper ; ' you know what a 
 Napoleon is ; well, then, it takes fifty thousand of them 
 to make a million.' 
 
 ' Mamma, we will have a newva'ine said for him.' 
 
 ' That was what I was thinking,' her mother replied. 
 
 'Just like you ! always thinking how to spend money. 
 Really, one might suppose that we had any amount of 
 money to throw away ! ' 
 
 As he spoke, a sound of low hoarse sobbing, more 
 ominous than any which had preceded it, came from the 
 garret. Eugénie and her mother shuddered. 
 
 ' Nanon,' called Grandet, 'go up and see that he is 
 not killing himself.' 
 
 ' Look here ! you two,' he continued, turning to his 
 wife and daughter, whose cheeks grew white at his tones, 
 ' there is to be no nonsense, mind ! I am leaving the 
 house. I am going round to see the Dutchmen who are 
 going to-day. Then I shall go to Cruchot's, and have a 
 talk with him about all this.' 
 
 He went out. As soon as the door closed upon 
 Grandet, Eugénie and her mother breathed more freely. 
 The girl had never felt constraint in her father's presence 
 until that morning ; but a few hours had wrought rapid 
 changes in her ideas and feelings. 
 
 ' Mamma, how many louis is a hogshead of wine worth ? ' 
 
 'Your father gets something between a hundred and 
 a hundred and fifty francs for his ; sometimes two 
 hundred I believe, from what I have heard him say.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 95 
 
 ' And would there be fourteen hundred hogsheads in 
 a vintage ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know how many there are, child, upon my 
 word ; your father never talks about business to me.' 
 
 ' But, anyhow, papa must be rich.' 
 
 ' May be. But M. Cruchot told me that your father 
 bought Froidfond two years ago. That would be a 
 heavy pull on him.' 
 
 Eugénie, now at a loss as to her father's wealth, went 
 no further with her arithmetic. 
 
 'He did not even so much as see me, the poor dear ! ' 
 said Nanon on her return. ' He is lying there on his 
 bed like a calf, crying like a Magdalen, you never saw 
 the like ! Poor young man, what can be the matter 
 with him ? ' 
 
 'Let us go up at once and comfort him, mamma ; if 
 we hear a knock, we will come downstairs.' 
 
 There was something in the musical tones of her 
 daughter's voice which Mme. Grandet could not resist. 
 Eugénie was sublime ; she was a girl no longer, she 
 was a woman. With beating hearts they climbed the 
 stairs and went together to Charles's room. The door 
 was open. The young man saw nothing, and heard 
 nothing ; he was absorbed in his grief, an inarticulate cry 
 broke from him now and again. 
 
 ' How he loves his father ! ' said Eugénie in a low 
 voice, and in her tone there was an unmistakable accent 
 which betrayed the passion in her heart, and hopes of 
 which herself was unaware. Mme. Grandet, with the 
 quick instinct of a mother's love, glanced at her daughter 
 and spoke in a low voice in her ear. 
 
 ' Take care,' she said, ' or you may love him.' 
 
 'Love him ! ' said Eugénie. 'Ah ! if you only knew 
 what my father said.' 
 
 Charles moved slightly as he lay, and saw his aunt and 
 cousin. 
 
 ' I have lost my father,' he cried j ' my poor father !
 
 96 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 If he had only trusted me and told me about his losses, 
 we might have worked together to repair them. Mon 
 Dieu ! my kind father ! I was so sure that I should see 
 him again, and I said goodbye so carelessly, I am afraid, 
 never thinking . . .' 
 
 His words were interrupted by sobs. 
 
 'We will surely pray for him,' said Mme. Grandet. 
 ' Submit yourself to the will of God.' 
 
 ' Take courage, cousin,' said Eugénie gently ; ' nothing 
 can give your father back to you ; you must now think 
 how to save your honour . . .' 
 
 A woman always has her wits about her, even in her 
 capacity of comforter, and with instinctive tact Eugénie 
 sought to divert her cousin's mind from his sorrow by 
 leading him to think about himself. 
 
 ' My honour ? ' cried the young man, hastily pushing 
 back the hair from his eyes. He sat upright upon the 
 bed, and folded his arms. ' Ah ! true. My uncle said 
 that my father had failed.' 
 
 He hid his face in his hands with a heartrending cry 
 of pain. 
 
 ' Leave me ! leave me ! cousin Eugénie,' he entreated. 
 ' Oh ! God forgive my father, for he must have been 
 terribly unhappy ! ' 
 
 There was something in the sight of this young sorrow, 
 this utter abandonment of grief, that was horribly 
 engaging. It was a sorrow that shrank from the gaze 
 of others, and Charles's gesture of entreaty that they 
 should leave him to himself was understood by Eugénie 
 and her mother. They went silently downstairs again, 
 took their places by the great window, and sewed on for 
 nearly an hour without a word to each other. 
 
 Eugénie had looked round the room ; it was a stolen 
 glance. In one of those hasty surveys by which a girl 
 sees everything in a moment, she had noticed the pretty 
 trifles on the toilette-table — the scissors, the razors 
 mounted with gold. The gleams of splendour and
 
 Eugénie Grandet 97 
 
 luxury, seen amidst all this misery, made Charles still 
 more interesting in her eyes, perhaps by the very force of 
 the contrast. Their life had been so lonely and so quiet ; 
 such an event as this, with its painful interest, had never 
 broken the monotony of their lives, little had occurred to 
 stir their imaginations, and now this tragical drama was 
 being enacted under their eyes. 
 
 ' Mamma,' said Eugénie, ' shall we wear mourn- 
 
 ' Your father will decide that,' replied Mme. Grandet, 
 and once more they sewed in silence. Eugenie's needle 
 moved with a mechanical regularity, which betrayed her 
 preoccupation of mind. The first wish of this adorable 
 girl was to share her cousin's mourning. About four 
 o'clock a sharp knock at the door sent a sudden thrill of 
 terror through Mme. Grandet. 
 
 ' What can have brought your father back ? ' she said 
 to her daughter. 
 
 The vinegrower came in in high good-humour. He 
 rubbed his hands so energetically that nothing but a skin 
 like leather could have borne it, and indeed his hands were 
 tanned like Russia leather, though the fragrant pine-rosin 
 and incense had been omitted in the process. For a 
 time he walked up and down and looked at the weather, 
 but at last his secret escaped him. 
 
 * I have hooked them, wife,' he said, without stam- 
 mering ; ' I have them safe. Our wine is sold ! The 
 Dutchmen and Belgians were setting out this morning ; 
 I hung about in the market-place in front of their inn, 
 looking as simple as I could. What 's-his-name — you 
 know the man — came up to me. All the best growers 
 are hanging ofF and holding their vintages ; they wanted 
 to wait, and so they can, I have not hindered them. Our 
 Belgian was at his wits' end, I saw that. So the bargain 
 was struck ; he is taking the whole of our vintage at 
 two hundred francs the hogshead, half of it paid down at 
 once in gold, and I have promissory notes for the rest. 
 
 G
 
 9 8 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 There are six louis for you. In three months' time 
 prices will go down.' 
 
 The last words came out quietly enough, but there 
 was something so sardonic in the tone that if the little 
 knots of growers, then standing in the twilight in the 
 market-place of Saumur, in dismay at the news of 
 Grandet's sale, had heard him speak, they would have 
 shuddered ; there would have been a panic on the market 
 — wines would have fallen fifty per cent. 
 
 ' You have a thousand hogsheads this year, father, have 
 you not ? ' asked Eugénie. 
 
 ' Yes, little girl.' 
 
 These words indicated that the cooper's joy had indeed 
 reached high-water mark. 
 
 ' That will mean two hundred thousand francs ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, Mademoiselle Grandet.' 
 
 ' Well, then, father, you can easily help Charles.' 
 
 The surprise, the wrath and bewilderment with which 
 Belshazzar beheld Mené Mené Tek el Upharsin written 
 upon his palace wall were as nothing compared with 
 Grandet's cold fury ; he had forgotten all about Charles, 
 and now he found that all his daughter's inmost thoughts 
 were of his nephew, and that this arithmetic of hers 
 referred to him. It was exasperating. 
 
 ' Look here ! ' he thundered ; ' ever since that scape- 
 grace set foot in my house everything has gone askew. 
 You take it upon yourselves to buy sugar-plums, and make 
 a great set-out for him. I will not have these doings. 
 I should think, at my age, I ought to know what is right 
 and proper to do. At any rate, I have no need to take 
 lessons from my daughter, nor from any one else. I shall 
 do for my nephew whatever it is right and proper for me to 
 do ; it is no business of yours, you need not meddle in it. — 
 And now, as for you, Eugénie,' he added, turning towards 
 her, * if you say another word about it, I will send you 
 and Nanon off" to the Abbey at Noyers, see if I don't. 
 Where is that boy ? has he come downstairs yet ? '
 
 Eugénie Grandet 99 
 
 ' No, dear,' answered Mme. Grandet. 
 
 ' Why, what is he doing then ? ' 
 
 * He is crying for his father,' Eugénie said. 
 
 Grandet looked at his daughter, and found nothing to 
 say. There was some touch of the father even in him. 
 He took one or two turns up and down, and then went 
 straight to his strong-room to think over possible invest- 
 ments. He had thoughts of buying consols. Those 
 two thousand acres of woodland had brought him in six 
 hundred thousand francs ; then there was the money 
 from the sale of the poplars, there was last year's income 
 from various sources, and this year's savings, to say 
 nothing of the bargain which he had just concluded ; so 
 that, leaving those two hundred thousand francs out of 
 the question, he possessed a lump sum of nine hundred 
 thousand livres. That twenty per cent., to be made in 
 so short a time upon his outlay, tempted him. Consols 
 stood at seventy. He jotted down his calculations on 
 the margin of the paper that had brought the news of his 
 brother's death ; the moans of his nephew sounded in his 
 ears the while, but he did not hear them ; he went on 
 with his work till Nanon thumped vigorously on the 
 thick wall to summon her master to dinner. On the 
 last step of the staircase beneath the archway, Grandet 
 paused and thought. 
 
 ' There is the interest beside the eight per cent. — I will 
 do it. Fifteen hundred thousand francs in two years 
 time, in gold from Paris too, full weight. — Well, what 
 has become of my nephew ? ' 
 
 ' He said he did not want anything,' replied Nanon. 
 ' He ought to eat, or he will fall ill.' 
 
 ' It is so much saved,' was her master's comment. 
 
 ' Lord ! yes,' she replied. 
 
 ' Pooh ! he will not keep on crying for ever. Hunger 
 drives the wolf from the wood.' 
 
 Dinner was a strangely silent meal. When the cloth 
 had been removed, Mme. Grandet spoke to her husband.
 
 lOO Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' We ought to go into mourning, dear.' 
 
 ' Really, Mme. Grandet, you must be hard up for ways 
 of getting rid of money. Mourning is in the heart ; it is 
 not put on with clothes.' 
 
 * But for a brother mourning is indispensable, and the 
 Church bids us ' 
 
 ' Then buy mourning out of your six louis ; a band of 
 crape will do for me ; you can get me a band of crape.' 
 
 Eugénie said nothing, and raised her eyes to heaven. 
 Her generous instincts, so long repressed and dormant, 
 had been suddenly awakened, and every kindly thought 
 had been harshly checked as it had arisen. Outwardly this 
 evening passed just as thousands of others had passed in 
 their monotonous lives, but for the two women it was 
 the most painful that they had ever spent. Eugénie 
 sewed without raising her head ; she took no notice of 
 the workbox which Charles had looked at so scornfully 
 yesterday evening. Mme. Grandet knitted away at her 
 cufFs. Grandet sat twirling his thumbs, absorbed in 
 schemes which should one day bring about results that 
 would startle Saumur. Four hours went by. Nobody 
 dropped in to see them. As a matter of fact, the whole 
 town was ringing with the news of Grandet's sharp 
 practice, following on the news of his brother's failure 
 and his nephew's arrival. So imperatively did Saumur 
 feel the need to thrash these matters thoroughly out, 
 that all the vinegrowers, great or small, were assembled 
 beneath the des Grassins' roof, and frightful were the 
 imprecations which were launched at the head of their 
 late Mayor. 
 
 Nanon was spinning ; the whirr of her wheel was the 
 only sound in the great room beneath the grey-painted 
 rafters. 
 
 ' Our tongues don't go very fast,' she said, showing 
 her large teeth, white as blanched almonds. 
 
 ' There is no call for them to go,' answered Grandet, 
 roused from his calculations.
 
 Eugénie Grandet loi 
 
 He beheld a vision of the future — he saw eight milHons 
 in three years time — he had set forth on a long voyage 
 upon a golden sea. 
 
 ' Let us go to bed. I will go up and wish my nephew 
 a goodnight from you all, and see if he wants anything.' 
 
 Mme. Grandet stayed on the landing outside her room 
 door to hear what her worthy husband might say to 
 Charles. Eugénie, bolder than her mother, went a step 
 or two up the second flight. 
 
 ' Well, nephew, you are feeling unhappy ? Yes, cry, 
 it is only natural, a father is a father. But we must bear 
 our troubles patiently. Whilst you have been crying, I 
 have been thinking for you ; I am a kind uncle, you see. 
 Come, don't lose heart. Will you take a little wine ? 
 Wine costs nothing at Saumur ; it is common here ; they 
 offer it as they might offer you a cup of tea in the Indies. 
 — But you are all in the dark,' Grandet went on. ' That 's 
 bad, that 's bad ; one ought to see what one is doing.' 
 
 Grandet went to the chimney-piece. 
 
 ' What ! ' he cried, ' a wax candle ! Where the devil 
 have they fished that from ? I believe the wenches 
 would pull up the floor of my house to cook eggs for that 
 boy.' 
 
 Mother and daughter, hearing these words, fled to 
 their rooms, and crept into their beds like frightened 
 mice. 
 
 ' Mme. Grandet, you have a lot of money somewhere, 
 it seems,' said the vinegrower, walking into his wife's 
 rooms. 
 
 ' I am saying my prayers, dear ; wait a little,' faltered 
 the poor mother. 
 
 ' The devil take your pious notions ! ' growled 
 Grandet. 
 
 Misers have no belief in a life to come, the present is 
 all in all to them. But if this thought gives an insight 
 into the miser's springs of action, it possesses a wider 
 application, it throws a pitiless light upon our own era —
 
 I02 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 for money is the one all-powerful force, ours is pre- 
 eminently the epoch when money is the lawgiver, 
 socially and politically. Books and institutions, theories 
 and practice, all alike combine to weaken the belief in a 
 future life, the foundation on which the social edifice 
 has been slowly reared for eighteen hundred years. The 
 grave has almost lost its terrors for us. That Future 
 which awaited us beyond the Requiem has been trans- 
 ported into the present, and one hope and one ambition 
 possesses us all — to pass per fas et nefas into this earthly 
 paradise of luxury, vanity, and pleasure, to deaden the 
 soul and mortify the body for a brief possession of this 
 promised land, just as in other days men were found 
 willing to lay down their lives and to suffer martyrdom 
 for the hope of eternal bliss. This thought can be read 
 at large j it is stamped upon our age, which asks of the 
 voter^ — the man who makes the laws — not ' What do 
 you think ? ' but ' What can you pay ? ' — And what will 
 become of us when this doctrine has been handed down 
 from the bourgeoisie to the people ? 
 
 ' Mme. Grandet, have you finished ? ' asked the 
 cooper. 
 
 ' I am praying for you, dear.' 
 
 ' Very well, good night. To-morrow morning I shall 
 have something to say to you.' 
 
 Poor woman ! she betook herself to sleep like a school- 
 boy who has not learned his lessons, and sees before him 
 the angry face of the master when he wakes. Sheer 
 terror led her to wrap the sheets about her head to shut 
 out all sounds, but just at that moment she felt a kiss on 
 her forehead ; it was Eugénie who had slipped into the 
 room in the darkness, and stood there barefooted in her 
 nightdress. 
 
 ' Oh ! mother, my kind mother,' she said, ' I shall tell 
 him to-morrow morning that it was all my doing.' 
 
 ' No, don't J if you do, he will send you away to Noyers. 
 Let me manage it ; he will not cat me, after all.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 103 
 
 * Oh ! mamma, do you hear ? ' 
 
 * What ? ' 
 
 ' He is crying still.' 
 
 * Go back to bed, dear. The floor is damp, it will 
 strike cold to your feet.' 
 
 So ended the solemn day, which had brought for the 
 poor wealthy heiress a lifelong burden of sorrow ; never 
 again would Eugénie Grandet sleep as soundly or as 
 lightly as heretofore. It not seldom happens that at 
 some time in their lives this or that human being will 
 act literally 'unlike himself,' and yet in very truth in 
 accordance with his nature. Is it not rather that we 
 form our hasty conclusions of him without the aid of 
 such light as psychology affords, without attempting to 
 trace the mysterious birth and growth of the causes 
 which led to these unforeseen results ? And this passion, 
 which had its roots in the depths of Eugenie's nature, 
 should perhaps be studied as if it were the delicate fibre 
 of some living organism to discover the secret of its 
 growth. It was a passion that would influence her 
 whole life, so that one day it would be sneeringly called 
 a malady. Plenty of people would prefer to consider a 
 catastrophe improbable rather than undertake the task 
 of tracing the sequence of the events that led to it, to 
 discovering how the links of the chain were forged one 
 by one in the mind of the actor. In this case Eugenie's 
 past life will suffice to keen observers of human nature ; 
 her artless impulsiveness, her sudden outburst of tender- 
 ness will be no surprise to them. Womanly pity, that 
 treacherous feeling, had filled her soul but the more 
 completely because her life had been so uneventful that 
 it had never been so called forth before. 
 
 So the trouble and excitement of the day disturbed her 
 rest ; she woke again and again to listen for any sound 
 from her cousin's room, thinking that she still heard the 
 moans that all day long had vibrated through her heart. 
 Sometimes she seemed to see him lying up there, dying
 
 I04 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 of grief; sometimes she dreamed that he was being 
 starved to death. Towards morning she distinctly heard 
 a terrible cry. She dressed herself at once, and in the 
 dim light of the dawn fled noiselessly up the stairs to her 
 cousin's room. The door stood open, the wax candle 
 had burned itself down to the socket. Nature had 
 asserted herself; Charles, still dressed, was sleeping in the 
 armchair, with his head fallen forward on the bed ; he 
 had been dreaming as famished people dream. Eugénie 
 admired the fair young face. It was flushed and tear- 
 stained ; the eyelids were swollen with weeping ; he 
 seemed to be still crying in his sleep, and Eugenie's own 
 tears fell fast. Some dim feeling that his cousin was 
 present awakened Charles ; he opened his eyes, and saw 
 her distress. 
 
 ' Pardon me, cousin,' he said dreamily. Evidently 
 he had lost all reckoning of time, and did not know where 
 he was. 
 
 'There are hearts here that feel for you, cousin, and 
 we thought that you might perhaps want something. You 
 should go to bed ; you will tire yourself out if you sleep 
 like that.' 
 
 ' Yes,' he said, ' that is true.' 
 
 ' Goodbye,' she said, and fled, half in confusion, half 
 glad that she had come. Innocence alone dares to be 
 thus bold, and virtue armed with knowledge weighs its 
 actions as carefully as vice. 
 
 Eugénie had not trembled in her cousin's presence, 
 but when she reached her own room again she could 
 scarcely stand. Her ignorant life had suddenly come to 
 an end ; she remonstrated with herself, and blamed 
 herself again and again. ' What will he think of me ? 
 He will believe that I love him.' Yet she knew that 
 this was exactly what she wished him to believe. Love 
 spoke plainly within her, knowing by instinct how love 
 calls forth love. The moment when she stole into her 
 cousin's room became a memorable event in the girl's
 
 Eugénie Grandet 105 
 
 lonely life. Are there not thoughts and deeds which, in 
 love, are for some souls like a solemn betrothal ? 
 
 An hour later she went to her mother's room, to help 
 her to dress, as she always did. Then the two women 
 went downstairs and took their places by the window, 
 and waited for Grandet's coming in the anxiety which 
 freezes or burns. Some natures cower, and others grow 
 reckless, when a scene or painful agitation is in prospect ; 
 the feeling of dread is so widely felt that domestic 
 animals will cry out when the slightest pain is inflicted 
 on them as a punishment, while the same creature if 
 hurt inadvertently will not utter a sound. 
 
 The cooper came downstairs, spoke in an absent- 
 minded way to his wife, kissed Eugénie, and sat down 
 to table. He seemed to have forgotten last night's 
 threats. 
 
 ' What has become of my nephew ? The child is not 
 much in the way.' 
 
 ' He is asleep, sir,' said Nanon. 
 
 ' So much the better, he won't want a wax candle for 
 that,' said Grandet facetiously. 
 
 His extraordinary mildness and satirical humour puzzled 
 Mme. Grandet ; she looked earnestly at her husband. 
 The goodman — here perhaps it may be observed that in 
 Touraine, Anjou, Poitou, and Brittany the designation 
 goodman {bonhomme)^ which has been so often applied to 
 Grandet, conveys no idea of merit ; it is allowed to 
 people of the worst temper as well as to good-natured 
 idiots, and is applied without distinction to any man of a 
 certain age — the goodman, therefore, took up his hat and 
 gloves with the remark— 
 
 ' I am going to have a look round in the market-place ; 
 I want to meet the Cruchots.' 
 
 ' Eugénie, your father certainly has something on 
 his mind.' 
 
 As a matter of fact, Grandet always slept but little, and 
 was wont to spend half the night in revolving and
 
 io6 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 maturing schemes, a process by which his views, observa- 
 tions, and plans gained amazingly in clearness and pre- 
 cision ; indeed, this was the secret of that constant success 
 which was the admiration of Saumur. Time and 
 patience combined will effect most things, and the 
 man who accomplishes much is the man with the 
 strong will who can wait. The miser's life is a con- 
 stant exercise of every human faculty in the service of 
 a personality. He believes in self-love and interest, 
 and in no other motives of action, but interest is in some 
 sort another form of self-love, to wit, a practical form 
 dealing with the tangible and the concrete, and both 
 forms are comprised in one master-passion, for self-love 
 and interest are but two manifestations of egoism. 
 Hence perhaps the prodigious interest which a miser 
 excites when cleverly put upon the stage. What man 
 is utterly without ambition ? And what social ambition 
 can be obtained without money ? Every one has some- 
 thing in common with this being ; he is a personification 
 of humanity, and yet is revolting to all the feelings of 
 humanity. 
 
 Grandet really ' had something on his mind,' as his wife 
 used to say. In Grandet, as in every miser, there was 
 a keen relish for the game, a constant craving to play 
 men off one against another for his own benefit, to 
 mulct them of their crowns without breaking the law. 
 And did not every victim who fell into his clutches 
 renew his sense of power, his just contempt for the weak 
 of the earth who let themselves fall such an easy prey ? 
 Ah ! who has understood the meaning of the lamb that 
 lies in peace at the feet of God, that most touching 
 symbol of meek victims who are doomed to suffer here 
 below, and of the future that awaits them hereafter, 
 of weakness and suffering glorified at last ? But here on 
 earth it is quite otherwise ; the lamb is the miser's 
 legitimate prey, and by him (when it is fat enough) it 
 is contemptuously penned, killed, cooked, and eaten.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 107 
 
 On money and on this feeling of contemptuous superiority 
 the miser thrives. 
 
 During the night this excellent man's ideas had taken 
 an entirely new turn ; hence his unusual mildness. He 
 had been weaving a web to entangle them in Paris ; he 
 would envelop them in its toils, they should be as clay 
 in his hands ; they should hope and tremble, come and 
 go, toil and sweat, and all for his amusement, all for the 
 old cooper in the dingy room at the head of the worm- 
 eaten staircase in the old house at Saumur ; it tickled his 
 sense of humour. 
 
 He had been thinking about his nephew. He wanted 
 to save his dead brother's name from dishonour in a way 
 that should not cost a penny either to his nephew or to 
 himself. He was about to invest his money for three 
 years, his mind was quite at leisure from his own affairs ; 
 he really needed some outlet for his malicious energy, 
 and here was an opportunity supplied by his brother's 
 failure. The claws were idle, he had nothing to squeeze 
 between them, so he would pound the Parisians for 
 Charles's benefit, and exhibit himself in the light of 
 an excellent brother at a very cheap rate. As a matter 
 of fact, the honour of the family name counted for very 
 little with him in this matter ; he looked at it from 
 the purely impersonal point of view of the gambler, 
 who likes to see a game well played although it is no 
 affair of his. The Cruchots were necessary to him, but 
 he did not mean to go in search of them ; they should 
 come to him. That very evening the comedy should 
 begin, the main outlines were decided upon already, 
 to-morrow he would be held up as an object of 
 admiration all over the town, and his generosity should 
 not cost him a farthing ! 
 
 Eugénie, in her father's absence, was free to busy 
 herself openly for her cousin, to feel the pleasure of 
 pouring out for him in many ways the wealth of pity 
 that filled her heart j for in pity alone women are
 
 io8 Eugenie Grandet 
 
 content that we should feel their superiority, and the 
 sublimity of devotion is the one height which they can 
 pardon us for leaving to them. 
 
 Three or four times Eugénie went to listen to her 
 cousin's breathing, that she might know whether he was 
 awake or still sleeping ; and when she was sure that he 
 was rising, she turned her attention to his breakfast, and 
 cream, coffee, fruit, eggs, plates, and glasses were all in 
 turn the objects of her especial care. She softly climbed 
 the rickety stairs to listen again. Was he dressing ? 
 Was he still sobbing ? She went to the door at last and 
 spoke — 
 
 ' Cousin ! ' 
 
 ' Yes, cousin.' 
 
 ' Would you rather have breakfast downstairs or up 
 here in your room ? ' 
 
 ' Whichever you please.' 
 
 ' How do you feel ? ' 
 
 ' I am ashamed to say that I am hungry.' 
 
 This talk through the closed door was like an episode 
 in a romance for Eugénie. 
 
 ' Very well then, we will bring your breakfast up to 
 your room, so that my father may not be vexed about 
 it.' 
 
 She sprang downstairs, and ran into the kitchen with 
 the swiftness of a bird. 
 
 ' Nanon, just go and set his room straight.' 
 
 The familiar staircase which she had gone up and 
 down so often, and which echoed with every sound, 
 seemed no longer old in Eugenie's eyes ; it was radiant 
 with light, it seemed to speak a language which she 
 understood, it was young again as she herself was, young 
 like the love in her heart. And the mother, the kind, 
 indulgent mother, was ready to lend herself to her 
 daughter's whims, and as soon as Charles's room was ready 
 they both went thither to sit with him. Does not 
 Christian charity bid us comfort the mourner ? Little
 
 Eugénie Grandet 109 
 
 religious sophistries were not wanting by which the 
 women justified themselves. 
 
 Charles Grandet received the most tender and affec- 
 tionate care. Such delicate tact and sweet kindness 
 touched him very closely in his desolation ; and for 
 these two souls, they found a moment's freedom from 
 the restraint under which they lived ; they were at home 
 in an atmosphere of sorrow ; they could give him the 
 quick sympathy of fellowship in misfortune. Eugénie 
 could avail herself of the privilege of relationship to set 
 his linen in order, and to arrange the trifles that layon the 
 dressing-table'; she could admire the wonderful knick- 
 knacks at her leisure ; all the paraphernalia of luxury, 
 the delicately-wrought gold and silver passed through her 
 hands, her fingers dwelt lingeringly on them under the 
 pretext of looking closely at the workmanship. 
 
 Charles was deeply touched by the generous interest 
 which his aunt and cousin took in him. He knew 
 Parisian life quite sufficiently to know that under these 
 circumstances his old acquaintances and friends would 
 have grown cold and distant at once. But his trouble 
 had brought out all the peculiar beauty of Eugenie's 
 character, and he began to admire the simplicity of 
 manner which had provoked his amusement but yester- 
 day. So when Eugénie waited on her cousin with such 
 frank goodwill, taking from Nanon the earthenware 
 bowl full of coflfee and cream to set it before him herself, 
 the Parisian's eyes filled with tears ; and when he met 
 her kind glance, he took her hand in his and kissed it. 
 
 ' Well, what is the matter now ? ' she asked. 
 
 * Oh ! they are tears of gratitude,' he answered. 
 
 Eugénie turned hastily away, took the candles from 
 the chimney-piece and held them out to Nanon. 
 
 ' Here,' she said, ' take these away.' 
 
 When she could look at her cousin again, the flush 
 was still on her face, but her eyes at least did not betray 
 her, and gave no sign of the excess of joy that flooded
 
 1 lo Eugénie Grandet 
 
 her heart ; yet the same thought was dawning in both 
 their souls, and could be read in the eyes of either, and 
 they knew that the future was theirs. This thrill of 
 happiness was all the sweeter to Charles in his great 
 sorrow, because it was so little expected. 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and both the women 
 hurried down to their places by the window. It was 
 lucky for them that their flight downstairs was suffi- 
 ciently precipitate, and that they were at their work 
 when Grandet came in, for if he had met them beneath 
 the archway, all his suspicions would be aroused at once. 
 After the mid-day meal, which he took standing, the 
 keeper, who had not yet received his promised reward, 
 appeared from Froidfond, bringing with him a hare, 
 some partridges shot in the park, a few eels, and a couple 
 of pike sent by him from the miller's. 
 
 ' Aha ! so here is old Cornoiller ; you come just when 
 you are wanted, like salt fish in Lent. Is all that fit to 
 eat ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, sir ; all killed the day before yesterday.' 
 
 'Come, Nanon, look alive ! Just take this, it will do 
 for dinner to-day ; the two Cruchots are coming.' 
 
 Nanon opened her eyes with amazement, and stared 
 first at one and then at another. 
 
 *■ Oh ! indeed,' she said ; 'and where are the herbs and 
 the bacon to come from ? ' 
 
 'Wife,' said Grandet, 'let Nanon have six francs, and 
 remind me to go down into the cellar to look out a bottle 
 of good wine.' 
 
 ' Well, then, M. Grandet,' the gamekeeper began (he 
 wished to see the question of his salary properly settled, 
 and was duly primed with a speech), ' M. Grandet ' 
 
 'Tut, tut, tut,' said Grandet, 'I know what you are 
 going to say ; you are a good fellow, we will see about 
 that to-morrow, I am very busy to-day. Give him five 
 francs, wife,' he added, looking at Mme. Grandet, and 
 with that he beat a retreat. The poor woman was only
 
 Eugénie Grandet m 
 
 too happy to purchase peace at the price of eleven francs. 
 She knew by experience that Grandet usually kept quiet 
 for a fortnight after he had made her disburse coin by 
 coin the money which he had given her. 
 
 ' There, Cornoiller,' she said, as she slipped ten francs 
 into his hand ; 'we will repay you for your services one 
 of these days.' 
 
 Cornoiller had no answer ready, so he went. 
 
 'Madame,' said Nanon, who had by this time put on 
 her black bonnet and had a basket on her arm, 'three 
 francs will be quite enough ; keep the rest. I shall 
 manage just as well with three.' 
 
 ' Let us have a good dinner, Nanon ; my cousin is 
 coming downstairs,' said Eugénie. 
 
 ' There is something very extraordinary going on, I am 
 sure,' said Mme. Grandet. ' This makes the third time 
 since we were married that your father has asked any one 
 here to dinner.' 
 
 It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon ; Eugénie 
 and her mother had laid the cloth and set the table for 
 six persons, and the master of the house had brought up 
 two or three bottles of the exquisite wines, which are 
 jealously hoarded in the cellars of the vine-growing 
 district. 
 
 Charles came into the dining-room looking white and 
 sad ; there was a pathetic charm about his gestures, his 
 face, his looks, the tones of his voice ; his sorrow had 
 given him the interesting look that women like so well, 
 and Eugénie only loved him the more because his features 
 were worn with pain. Perhaps, too, this trouble had 
 brought them nearer in other ways. Charles was no 
 longer the rich and handsome young man who lived in a 
 sphere far beyond her ken ; he was a kinsman in deep 
 and terrible distress, and sorrow is a great leveller. 
 Woman has this in common with the angels — all suffer- 
 ing creatures are under her protection. 
 
 Charles and Eugénie understood each other without a
 
 1 1 2 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 word being spoken on either side. The poor dandy 
 of yesterday, fallen from his high estate, to-day was an 
 orphan, who sat in a corner of the room, quiet, composed, 
 and proud ; but from time to time he met his cousin's 
 eyes, her kind and affectionate glance rested on him, and 
 compelled him to shake off his dark and sombre broodings, 
 and to look forward with her to a future full of hope, in 
 which she loved to think that she might share. 
 
 The news of Grandet's dinner-party caused even 
 greater excitement in Saumur than the sale of his vintage, 
 although this latter proceeding had been a crime of the 
 blackest dye, an act of high treason against the vine- 
 growing interest. If Grandet's banquet to the Cruchots 
 has been prompted by the same idea which on a memor- 
 able occasion cost Alci blades' dog its tail, history might 
 perhaps have heard of the miser ; but he felt himself to 
 be above public opinion in this town which he exploited ; 
 he held Saumur too cheap. 
 
 It was not long before the des Grassins heard of 
 Guillaume Grandet's violent end and impending bank- 
 ruptcy. They determined to pay a visit to their client 
 that evening, to condole with him in his affliction, and 
 to show a friendly interest ; while they endeavoured to 
 discover the motives which could have led Grandet to 
 invite the Cruchots to dinner at such a time. 
 
 Precisely at five o'clock President C. de Bonfons and 
 his uncle the notary arrived, dressed up to the nines this 
 time. The guests seated themselves at table, and began 
 by attacking their dinner with remarkably good appetites. 
 Grandet was solemn, Charles was silent, Eugénie was 
 dumb, and Mme. Grandet said no more than usual ; if it 
 had been a funeral repast, it could not well have been less 
 lively. When they rose from the table, Charles addressed 
 his aunt and uncle — 
 
 ' Will you permit me to withdraw ? I have some long 
 and difficult letters to write.' 
 
 ' By all means, nephew.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 1 13 
 
 When Charles had left the room, and his amiable rela- 
 tive could fairly assume that he was out of earshot and 
 deep in his correspondence, Grandet gave his vi^ife a 
 sinister glance. 
 
 'Mme. Grandet, v^hat we are going to say w^ill be 
 Greek to you ; it is half-past seven o'clock, you ought to 
 be off to bed by this time. Good night, my daughter.' 
 He kissed Eugénie, and mother and daughter left the room. 
 
 Then the drama began. Now, if ever in his life, 
 Grandet displayed all the shrewdness which he had 
 acquired in the course of his long experience of men and 
 business, and all the cunning which had gained him the 
 nickname of ' old fox ' among those who had felt his 
 teeth a little too sharply. Had the ambition of the late 
 Mayor of Saumur soared a little higher; if he had had the 
 luck to rise to a higher social sphere, and destiny had sent 
 him to mingle in some congress in which the fate of 
 nations is at stake, the genius which he was now devoting 
 to his own narrow ends would doubtless have done France 
 glorious service. And yet, after all, the probability is 
 that once away from Saumur the worthy cooper would 
 have cut but a poor figure, and that minds, like certain 
 plants and animals, are sterile when removed to a distant 
 climate and an alien soil. 
 
 ' M-m-monsieur le P-p-président, you were s-s-saying 
 that b-b-bankruptcy ' 
 
 Here the trick of stammering which it had pleased 
 the vinegrower to assume so long ago that every one 
 believed it to be natural to him (like the deafness of which 
 he was wont to complain in rainy weather), grew so 
 unbearably tedious for the Cruchot pair, that as they 
 strove to catch the syllables, they made unconscious 
 grimaces, moving their lips as if they would fain finish 
 the words in which the cooper entangled both himself 
 and them at his pleasure. 
 
 And here, perhaps, is the fitting place to record the 
 history of Grandet's deafness and the impediment in his 
 
 H
 
 114 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 speech. No one in Anjou had better hearing or could 
 speak Angevin French more clearly and distinctly than 
 the wily vinegrower — when he chose. Once upon a 
 time, in spite of all his shrewdness, a Jew had got the 
 better of him. In the course of their discussion the 
 Israehte had applied his hand to his ear, in the manner 
 of an ear-trumpet, the better to catch what was said, and 
 had gibbered to such purpose in his search for a word, 
 that Grandet, a victim to his own humanity, felt con- 
 strained to suggest to that crafty Hebrew the words and 
 ideas of which the Israelite appeared to be in search, to 
 finish himself the reasonings of the said Hebrew, to say 
 for that accursed alien all that he ought to have said for 
 himself, till Grandet ended by fairly changing places 
 with the Jew. 
 
 From this curious contest of wits the vinegrower did 
 not emerge triumphant ; indeed, for the first and last 
 time in his business career he made a bad bargain. But 
 loser though he was from a money point of view, he had 
 received a great practical lesson, and later on he reaped 
 the fruits of it. Wherefore in the end he blessed the Jew 
 who had shown him how to wear out the patience of an 
 opponent, and to keep him so closely employed in express- 
 ing his adversary's ideas that he completely lost sight of 
 his own. The present business required more deafness, 
 more stammering, more of the mazy circumlocutions in 
 which Grandet was wont to involve himself, than any 
 previous transaction in his life ; for, in the first place, he 
 wished to throw the responsibility of his ideas on some 
 one else ; some one else was to suggest his own schemes 
 to him, while he was to keep himself to himself, and 
 leave every one in the dark as to his real intentions. 
 
 ' Mon-sieur de B-B-Bonfons.' (This was the second time 
 in three years that he had called the younger Cruchot 
 ' M. de Bonfons,' and the president might well consider 
 that this was almost tantamount to being acknowledged 
 as the crafty cooper's son-in-law.)
 
 Eugénie Grandet 1 1 5 
 
 * You were s-s-s-saying that in certain cases, p-p-p-pro- 
 ceedings in b-b-bankruptcy might be s-s-s-stopped 
 b-b-by ' 
 
 ' At the instance of a Tribunal of Commerce. That 
 is done every day of the year,' said M. C. de Bonfons, 
 guessing, as he thought, at old Grandet's idea, and 
 running away with it. 'Listen!' he said, and in the 
 most amiable way he prepared to explain himself. 
 
 ' I am 1-listening,' replied the older man meekly, and 
 his face assumed a demure expression ; he looked like 
 some small boy who is laughing in his sleeve at his 
 schoolmaster while appearing to pay the most respectful 
 attention to every word. 
 
 'When anybody who is in a large way of business 
 and is much looked up to, like your late brother in Paris, 
 for instance ' 
 
 ' My b-b-brother, yes.' 
 
 'When any one in that position is likely to find 
 himself insolvent ' 
 
 ' Ins-s-solvent, do they call it ? ' 
 
 'Yes. When his failure is imminent, the Tribunal 
 of Commerce, to which he is amenable (do you follow 
 me ?) has power by a judgment to appoint liquidators 
 to wind up the business. Liquidation is not bankruptcy, 
 do you understand ? It is a disgraceful thing to be a 
 bankrupt, but a liquidation reflects no discredit on a 
 man.' 
 
 ' It is quite a d-d-d-difFerent thing, if only it d-d-does 
 not cost any more,' said Grandet. 
 
 ' Yes. But a liquidation can be privately arranged 
 without having recourse to the Tribunal of Commerce,' 
 said the president as he took a pinch of snufF. ' How is 
 a man declared bankrupt ? ' 
 
 'Yes, how ? ' inquired Grandet. ' I have n-n-never 
 thought about it.' 
 
 ' In the first place, he may himself file a petition and 
 leave his schedule with the clerk of the court, the debtor
 
 1 1 6 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 himself draws it up or authorises some one else to do so, 
 and it is duly registered. Or, in the second place, his 
 creditors may make him a bankrupt. But supposing 
 the debtor does not file a petition, and none of his 
 creditors make application to the court for a judgment 
 declaring him bankrupt ; now let us see what happens then ! ' 
 
 ' Yes, let us s-s-see.' 
 
 * In that case, the family of the deceased, or his 
 representatives, or his residuary legatee, or the man 
 himself (if he is not dead), or his friends for him (if 
 he has absconded), liquidate his affairs. Now, possibly, 
 you may intend to do this in your brother's case ? ' 
 inquired the president. 
 
 ' Oh ! Grandet,' exclaimed the notary, ' that would 
 be acting very handsomely. We in the provinces have 
 our notions of honour. If you saved your name from 
 dishonour, for it is your name, you would be ' 
 
 'Sublime ! ' cried the president, interrupting his uncle. 
 
 ' Of course, my b-b-brother's n-n-name was Grandet, 
 th-that is certain sure, I d-d-don't deny it, and anyhow 
 this 1-1-1-1-liquidation would be a very g-good thing for 
 my n-n-nephew in every way, and I am very f-f-fond of 
 him. But we shall see. I know n-n-nothing of those 
 sharpers in P-Paris, and their t-tricks. And here am I 
 at S-Saumur, you see ! There are my vine-cuttings, 
 m-mv d-d-draining ; in sh-sh-short, there are my own 
 af-f-fairs, to s-s-see after. / have n-n-never accepted 
 a bill. What is a bill ? I have t-t-takcn many a one, 
 b-b-but I have n-n-never put my n-n-name to a piece of 
 p-paper. You t-t-take 'em and you can d-d-d-discount 
 'em, and that is all I know. I have heard s-s-say that 
 you can b-b-b-buy them ' 
 
 ' Yes,' assented the president. ' You can buy bills on 
 the market, less so much per cent. Do you under- 
 stand ? ' 
 
 Grandet held his hand to his ear, and the president 
 repeated his remark.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 1 1 7 
 
 *But it s-s-seems there are t-t-two s-sides to all this ? ' 
 replied the vinegrower. ' At my age, I know n-n-n- 
 nothing about this s-s-s-sort of thing. I must st-top 
 here to l-look after the g-g-grapes, the vines d-d-don't 
 stand still, and the g-g-grapes have to p-pay for every- 
 thing. The vintage m-must be 1-1-looked after before 
 anything else. Then I have a g-great d-d-deal on 
 my hands at Froidfond that I can't p-p-possibly 1-1-1-leave 
 to any one else. I don't underst-t-tand a word of all 
 this ; it is a p-p-pretty kettle of fish, confound it ; I can't 
 1-I-leave home to s-see after it. You s-s-s-say that to 
 bring about a 1-1-liquidation I ought to be in Paris. 
 Now you can't be in t-t-two p-places at once unless 
 you are a b-b-bird.' 
 
 ' / see what you mean,' cried the notary. ' Well, my 
 old friend, you have friends, friends of long standing 
 ready to do a great deal for you.' 
 
 ' Come, now ! ' said the vinegrower to himself, ' so 
 you are making up your minds, are you ? ' 
 
 ' And if some one were to go to Paris, and find up 
 your brother Guillaume's largest creditor, and say to 
 him ' 
 
 ' Here, just 1-1-listen to me a moment,' the cooper 
 
 struck in. ' Say to him what ? S-s-something like 
 
 this : " M. Grandet of Saumur th-this, M. Grandet of 
 Saumur th-th-that. He 1-1-loves his brother, he has a r-r-re- 
 gardforhisn-nephew ; Grandet thinksal-1-lotofhisf-family, 
 he means to d-do well by them. He has just s-s-sold his 
 vintage uncommonly well. Don't drive the thing into 
 b-b-b-bankruptcy, call a meeting of the creditors, and 
 ap-p-point 1-I-liquidators. Then s-see what Grandet 
 will do. You will do a great d-deal b-b-better for your- 
 selves by coming to an arrangement than by 1-1-letting 
 the 1-1-1-lawyers poke their noses into it." That is how 
 it is, eh ? ' 
 
 ' Quite so ! ' said the president. 
 
 ' Because, look you here, Monsieur de Bon-Bon-Bon-
 
 1 1 8 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 fons, you must 1-I-look before you 1-1-1-leap. And you 
 can't d-do more than you can. A big af-f-fair like this 
 wants 1-1-1-looking into, or you may ru-ru-ruin yourself. 
 That is so, isn't it ? eh ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly,' said the president. ' I myself am of the 
 opinion that in a few months time you could buy up the 
 debts for a fixed sum and pay by instalments. Aha ! 
 you can trail a dog a long way with a bit of bacon. 
 When a man has not been declared bankrupt, as soon 
 as the bills are in your hands, you will be as white as 
 snow.' 
 
 * As s-s-s-snow ? ' said Grandet, holding his hand to 
 to his ear. ' S-s-s-snow ? I don't underst-t-tand.' 
 
 'Why, then, just listen to me ! ' cried the president. 
 
 ' I am 1-1-listening ' 
 
 ' A bill of exchange is a commodity subject to 
 fluctuations in value. This is a deduction from Jeremy 
 Bentham's theory of interest. He was a publicist who 
 showed conclusively that the prejudices entertained 
 against money-lenders were irrational.' 
 
 ' Bless me ! ' put in Grandet. 
 
 'And seeing that, according to Bentham, money it- 
 self is a commodity, and that that which money repre- 
 sents is no less a commodity,' the president went on ; 
 ' and since it is obvious that the commodity called 
 a bill of exchange is subject to the same laws of 
 supply and demand that control production of all kinds, 
 a bill of exchange bearing this or that signature, like 
 this or that article of commerce, is scarce or plenti- 
 ful in the market, commands a high premium or is 
 worth nothing at all. Wherefore the decision of this 
 
 Court There ! how stupid I am, I beg your 
 
 pardon ; I mean I am of the opinion that you could 
 easily buy up your brother's debts for twenty-five per 
 cent, of their value.' 
 
 ' You m-m-m-mentioned Je-je-je-jeremy Ben ' 
 
 ' Bentham, an Englishman.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 1 1 9 
 
 ' That is a Jeremiah who will save us many lamenta- 
 tions in business matters,' said the notary, laughing. 
 
 'The English s-s-sometimes have s-s-s-sensible notions,' 
 said Grandet. ' Then, according to B-Bentham, how 
 if my b-b-brother's b-bills are worth n-n-n-nothing ? If 
 I am right, it looks to me as if . . . the creditors would 
 . . . n-no, they wouldn't. ... I underst-t-tand.' 
 
 'Let me explain all this to you,' said the president. 
 ' In law, if you hold all the outstanding bills of the firm 
 of Grandet, your brother, his heirs and assigns, would 
 owe no one a penny. So far, so good.' 
 
 * Good,' echoed Grandet. 
 
 * And in equity ; suppose that your brother's bills were 
 negotiated upon the market (negotiated, do you under- 
 stand the meaning of that term ?) at a loss of so much per 
 cent. ; and suppose one of your friends happened to be pass- 
 ing, and bought up the bills ; there would have been no 
 physical force brought to bear upon the creditors, they gave 
 them up of their own free-will, and the estate of the late 
 Grandet of Paris would be clear in the eye of the law.' 
 
 ' True,' stuttered the cooper, ' b-b-business is business. 
 So that is s-s-s-settled. But, for all that, you underst- 
 tand that it is a d-d-difficult matter. I have not the 
 m-m-money, nor have I the t-t-t-time, nor-— — ' 
 
 ' Yes, yes ; you cannot be at the trouble. Well, now, 
 I will go to Paris for you if you like (you must stand 
 the expenses of the journey, that is a mere trifle). I 
 will see the creditors, and talk to them, and put them off"; 
 it can all be arranged ; you will be prepared to add some- 
 thing to the amount realised by the liquidation so as to 
 get the bills into your hands.' 
 
 ' We shall s-see about that ; I cannot and wiH not 
 under-t-t-take anything unless I know. . . . You can't 
 d-d-do more than you can, you know.' 
 
 ' Quite so, quite so.' 
 
 'And I am quite bewildered with all these head- 
 splitting ideas that you have sp-prung upon me. Th-
 
 I20 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 this is the f-f-f- first t-time in my 1-1-life that I have had 
 to th-th-think about such th ' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, you are not a consulting barrister.' 
 
 ' I am a p-p-poor vinegrower, and I know n-n-nothing 
 about what you have just t-t-t-told me ; I m-m-must 
 th-think it all out.' 
 
 ' Well ! then,' began the president, as if he meant to 
 reopen the discussion. 
 
 ' Nephew ! ' interrupted the notary reproachfully. 
 
 'Well, uncle ? ' answered the president. 
 
 'Let M. Grandet explain what he means to do. It 
 is a very important question, and you are to receive 
 his instructions. Our dear friend might now very 
 pertinently state ' 
 
 A knock at the door announced the arrival of the 
 des Grassins ; their coming and exchange of greetings 
 prevented Cruchot senior from finishing his sentence. 
 Nor was he ill-pleased with this diversion ; Grandet was 
 looking askance at him already, and there was that about 
 the wen on the cooper's face which indicated that a 
 storm was brewing within. And on sober reflection it 
 seemed to the cautious notary that a president of a court 
 of first instance was not exactly the person to dispatch 
 to Paris, there to open negotiations with creditors, and to 
 lend himself to a more than dubious transaction which, 
 however you looked at it, hardly squared with notions of 
 strict honesty ; and not only so, but he had particularly 
 noticed that goodman Grandet had shown not the 
 slightest inclination to disburse anything whatever, and 
 he trembled instinctively at the thought of his nephew 
 becoming involved in such a business. He took advantage 
 of the entrance of the des Grassins, took his nephew by 
 the arm, and drew him into the embrasure of the window. 
 
 ' You have gone quite as far as there is any need,' 
 he said, 'that is quite enough of such zeal ; you are over- 
 reaching yourself in your eagerness to marry the girl. 
 The devil ! You should not rush into a thing open-
 
 Eugénie Grandet 121 
 
 mouthed, like a crow at a walnut. Leave the steering 
 of the ship to me for a bit, and just shift your sails 
 according to the wind. Now, is it a part you ought to 
 play, compromising your dignity as magistrate in such 
 
 a ' 
 
 He broke off suddenly, for he heard M. des Grassins 
 saying to the old cooper, as he held out his hand — 
 
 ' Grandet, we have heard of the dreadful misfortunes 
 which have befallen your family — the ruin of the firm 
 of Guillaume Grandet and your brother's death ; we 
 have come to express our sympathy with you in this sad 
 calamity.' 
 
 ' There is only one misfortune,' the notary interrupted 
 at this point — ' the death of the younger M. Grandet ; 
 and if he had thought to ask his brother for assistance, 
 he would not have taken his own life. Our old friend 
 here, who is a man of honour to his finger tips, is 
 prepared to discharge the debts contracted by the firm 
 of Grandet in Paris. In order to spare our friend the 
 worry of what is, after all, a piece of lawyer's business, 
 my nephew the president oflFers to start immediately 
 for Paris, so as to arrange with the creditors, and duly 
 satisfy their claims.' 
 
 The three des Grassins were thoroughly taken aback 
 by these words ; Grandet appeared to acquiesce in what 
 had been said, for he was pensively stroking his chin. 
 On their way to the house the family had commented 
 very freely upon Grandet's niggardliness, and indeed had 
 almost gone so far as to accuse him of fratricide. 
 
 ' Ah ! just what I expected ! ' cried the banker, 
 looking at his wife. ' What was I saying to you 
 only just now as we came along, Mme. des Grassins ? 
 Grandet, I said, is a man who will never swerve a hair's- 
 breadth from the strict course of honour ; he will not 
 endure the thought of the slightest spot on his name ! 
 Money without honour is a disease. Oh ! we have a 
 keen sense of honour in the provinces ! This is noble
 
 122 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 — really noble of you, Grandet. I am an old soldier, 
 and I do not mince matters, I say what I think straight 
 out; znà mille tonnerres ! this is sublime ! ' 
 
 ' Then the s-s-sub-sublime costs a great d-d-deal,' 
 stuttered the cooper, as the banker shook him warmly by 
 the hand. 
 
 ' But this, my good Grandet (no offence to you, M. 
 le Président), is simply a matter of business,' des Grassins 
 went on, ' and requires an experienced man of business 
 to deal with it. There will have to be accounts kept of 
 sales and outgoing expenses ; you ought to have tables of 
 interest at your finger ends. I must go to Paris on 
 business of my own, and I could undertake ' 
 
 ' Then we must s-s-see about it, and t-t-t-try to 
 arrange between us to p-p-provide for anything that 
 m-may t-t-turn up, but I d-d-don't want to be d-d-drawn 
 into anything that I would rather not d-d-d-do,' con- 
 tinued Grandet, ' because, you see, M. le Président 
 naturally wants me to pay his expenses.' The good 
 man did not stammer over these last words. 
 
 ' Eh ? ' said Mme. des Grassins. ' Why, it is a pleasure 
 to stay in Paris ! For my part, I should be glad to go 
 there at my own expense.' 
 
 She made a sign to her husband, urging him to seize 
 this opportunity of discomfiting their enemies and cheat 
 them of their mission. Then she flung a withering 
 glance at the now crestfallen and miserable Cruchots. 
 Grandet seized the banker by the buttonhole and drew 
 him aside. 
 
 ' I should feel far more confidence in you than in the 
 president,' he remarked ; 'and besides that,^ he added 
 (and the wen twitched a little), 'there are other fish 
 to fry. I want to make an investment. I have several 
 thousand francs to put into consols, and I don't mean 
 to pay more than eighty for them. Now, from all I 
 can hear, that machine always runs down at the end of 
 the month. You know all about these things, I expect ? '
 
 Eugénie Grandet ii^ 
 
 ' Pardteu ! I should think I did. Well, then, I shall 
 have to buy several thousand livres vi^orth of consols for 
 you ? ' 
 
 'Just by way of a beginning. But mum, I want to 
 play at this game without letting any one know about 
 it. You will buy them for me at the end of the month, 
 and say nothing to the Cruchots ; it would only annoy 
 them. Since you are going to Paris, we might as well 
 see at the same time what trumps are for my poor 
 nephew's sake.' 
 
 'That is an understood thing. I shall travel post 
 to Paris to-morrow,' said des Grassins aloud, 'and I will 
 come round to take your final instructions at — when 
 shall we say ? ' 
 
 ' At five o'clock, before dinner,' said the vinegrower, 
 rubbing his hands. 
 
 The two factions for a little while remained facing 
 each other. Des Grassins broke the silence again, clapping 
 Grandet on the shoulder, and saying — 
 
 ' It is a fine thing to have a good uncle like ' 
 
 ' Yes, yes,' returned Grandet, falling into the stammer 
 again, 'without m-making any p-p-parade about it ; I am a 
 good uncle ; 1 1-1-loved my brother j I will give p-p-p-proof 
 of it, if-if-if it d-doesn't cost ' 
 
 Luckily the banker interrupted him at this point. 
 
 'We must go, Grandet. If I am to set out sooner 
 than I intended, I shall have to see after some business 
 at once before I go.' 
 
 ' Right, quite right. I myself, in connection with 
 you know what, must p-p-put on my cons-s-sidering cap, 
 as P-President Cruchot s-s-says.' 
 
 'Plague take it ! I am no longer M. de Bonfons,' 
 thought the magistrate moodily, and his face fell; he 
 looked like a judge who is bored by the cause before 
 him. 
 
 The heads of the rival clans went out together. Both 
 had completely forgotten Grandet's treacherous crime
 
 124 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 of that morning ; his disloyal behaviour had faded from 
 their minds. They sounded each other, but to no 
 purpose, as to the goodman's real intentions (if inten- 
 tions he had) in this new turji that matters had taken. 
 
 * Are you coming with us to Mme. Dorsonval's ? ' 
 des Grassins asked the notary. 
 
 ' We are going there later on,' replied the president. 
 'With my uncle's permission, we will go first to see 
 Mile, de Gribeaucourt ; I promised just to look in on her 
 to say good-night.' 
 
 'We shall meet again, then,' smiled Mme. des Grassins. 
 
 But when the des Grassins were at some distance from 
 the two Cruchots, Adolphe said to his father, ' They are 
 in a pretty stew, eh ? ' 
 
 ' Hush ! ' returned his mother, ' they can very likely 
 hear what we are saying, and besides, that remark of 
 yours was not in good taste ; it sounds like one of your 
 law school phrases.' 
 
 ' Well, uncle ! ' cried the magistrate, when he saw 
 the des Grassins were out of earshot, ' I began by 
 being President de Bonfons, and ended as plain Cruchot.' 
 
 ' I saw myself that you were rather put out about it ; 
 and the des Grassins took the wind out of our sails. 
 How stupid you are, for all your sharpness! Let them set 
 sail, on the strength of a " We shall see " from Grandet ; 
 be easy, my boy, Eugénie shall marry you for all that.' 
 
 A few moments later, and the news of Grandet's 
 magnanimity was set circulating in three houses at once ; 
 the whole town talked of nothing but Grandet's devotion 
 to his brother. The sale of his vintao-e in utter disregard 
 of the agreement made among the vinegrowers was 
 forgotten ; every one fell to praising his scrupulous in- 
 tegrity, and to lauding his generosity, a quality which no 
 one had suspected him of possessing. There is that in 
 the French character which is readily excited to fury or to 
 passionate enthusiasm by any meteor that appears above
 
 Eugénie Grandet 125 
 
 their horizon, that is captivated by the bravery of a 
 blatant fact. Can it be that collectively men have no 
 memories ? 
 
 As soon as Grandet had bolted the house door he 
 called to Nanon. 
 
 ' Don't go to bed,' he said, ' and don't unchain the 
 dog ; there is something to be done, and we must do it 
 together. Cornoiller will be round with the carriage 
 from Froidfond at eleven o'clock. You must sit up 
 for him, and let him in quietly ; don't let him rap at 
 the door, and tell him not to make a noise. You get 
 into trouble with the police if you raise a racket at night. 
 And besides, there is no need to let all the quarter know 
 that I am going out.' 
 
 Having thus delivered himself, Grandet went up to his 
 laboratory, and Nanon heard him stirring about, rummag- 
 ing, going, and coming, all with great caution. Clearly 
 he had no wish to waken his wife or daughter, and above 
 all things he desired in nowise to excite any suspicion in 
 the mind of his nephew ; he had seen that a light was 
 burning in the young man's room, and had cursed his 
 relative forthwith. 
 
 In the middle of the night Eugénie heard a sound like 
 the groan of a dying man ; her cousin was always in her 
 thoughts, and for her the dying man was Charles. How 
 white and despairing he had looked when he wished her 
 good-night ; perhaps he had killed himself. She hastily 
 wrapped herself in her capuchine, a sort of long cloak 
 with a hood to it, and determined to go to see for her- 
 self. Some rays of bright light streaming through the 
 cracks of her door frightened her not a little at first, 
 perhaps the house was on fire ; but she was soon 
 reassured. She could hear Nanon's heavy footsteps 
 outside, and the sounds of the old servant's voice mingled 
 with the neighing of several horses. 
 
 ' Can my father be taking Charles away ? ' she asked 
 herself, as she set her door ajar, cautiously for fear the
 
 126 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 hinges should creak, so that she could watch all that was 
 going on in the corridor. 
 
 All at once her eyes met those of her father, and, 
 absent and indifferent as they looked, a cold shudder ran 
 through her. The cooper and Nanon were coming along 
 carrying something which hung by a chain from a stout 
 cudgel, one end of which rested on the right shoulder of 
 either ; the something was a little barrel such as Grandet 
 sometimes amused himself by making in the bakehouse, 
 when he had nothing better to do. 
 
 ' Holy Virgin ! how heavy it is, sir ! ' said Nanon in a 
 whisper. 
 
 ' What a pity it is only full of pence ! ' replied the cooper. 
 ' Look out ! or you will knock down the candlestick.' 
 
 The scene was lighted by a single candle set between 
 two balusters. 
 
 ' Cornoiller,' said Grandet to his gamekeeper in 
 partibuSy ' have you your pistols with you ? ' 
 
 ' No, sir. Lord, love you ! What can there be to 
 fear for a keg of coppers ? ' 
 
 ' Oh ! nothing, nothing,' said Goodman Grandet. 
 
 ' Besides, we shall get over the ground quickly,' the 
 keeper went on ; 'your tenants have picked out their best 
 horses for you.' 
 
 ' Well, well. You did not let them know where I 
 was going ? ' 
 
 ' I did not know that myself.' 
 
 ' Right. Is the carriage strongly built ? ' 
 
 ' That's all right, mister. Why, what is the weight 
 of a few paltry barrels like those of yours ? It would 
 carry two or three thousand of the like of them.' 
 
 ' Well,' said Nanon, ' I know there's pretty well 
 eighteen hundred weight there, that there is ! ' 
 
 ' Will you hold your tongue, Nanon ! You tell my 
 wife that I have gone into the country, and that I shall 
 be back to dinner. — Hurry up, Cornoiller ; we must be in 
 Angers before nine o'clock.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 127 
 
 The carriage started. Nanon bolted the gateway, 
 let the dog loose, and lay down and slept in spite of her 
 bruised shoulder ; and no one in the quarter had any 
 suspicion of Grandet's journey or of its object. The worthy 
 man was a miracle of circumspection. Nobody ever 
 saw a penny lying about in that house full of gold. He 
 had learned that morning from the gossip on the quay 
 that some vessels were being fitted out at Nantes, and 
 that in consequence gold was so scarce there that it was 
 worth double its ordinary value, and speculators were 
 buying it in Angers. The old cooper, by the simple 
 device of borrowing his tenants' horses, was prepared to 
 sell his gold at Angers, receiving in return an order 
 upon the Treasury from the Receiver-General for 
 the sum destined for the purchase of his consols, 
 and an addition in the shape of the premium paid on 
 his gold. 
 
 'My father is going out,' said Eugénie to herself. 
 She had heard all that had passed from the head of the 
 staircase. 
 
 Silence reigned once more in the house. The rattle of 
 the wheels in the streets of sleeping Saumur grew more 
 and more distant, and at last died away. Then it was that a 
 sound seemed to reach Eugenie's heart before it fell on 
 her ears, a wailing sound that rang through the thin walls 
 above — it came from her cousin's room. There was a 
 thin line of light, scarcely wider than a knife edge, 
 beneath his door; the rays slanted through the darkness 
 and left a bright gleaming bar along the balusters of the 
 crazy staircase. 
 
 ' He is unhappy,' she said, as she went up a little 
 further. 
 
 A second moan brought her to the landing above. 
 The door stood ajar ; she thrust it open. Charles was 
 sleeping in the rickety old armchair, his head drooped 
 over to one side, his hand hung down and nearly touched 
 the floor, the pen that he had let fall lay beneath his
 
 128 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 fingers. Lying in this position, his breath came in 
 quick, sharp jerks that startled Eugénie. She entered 
 hastily. 
 
 ' He must be very tired,' she said to herself, as she saw 
 a dozen sealed letters lying on the table. She read the 
 addresses — MM. Farry^ Breihnan and Co.^ carriage 
 builders ; M. Buisson^ tailor ; and so forth. 
 
 ' Of course, he has been settling his affairs, so that he 
 may leave France as soon as possible,' she thought. 
 
 Her eyes fell upon two unsealed letters. One of them 
 began — ' My dear Annette . . .' she felt dazed, and could 
 see nothing more for a moment. Her heart beat fast, her 
 feet seemed glued to the floor. 
 
 ' His dear Annette ! He loves, he is beloved ! . . 
 Then there is no more hope ! . . . What does he say 
 to her ? ' These thoughts flashed through her heart and 
 brain. She read the words everywhere : on the walls, on 
 the very floor, in letters of fire. 
 
 ' Must I give him up already ? No, I will not read 
 the letter. I ought not to stay. . . . And yet, even if I 
 did read it ? ' 
 
 She looked at Charles, gently took his head in her 
 hands, and propped it against the back of the chair. He 
 submitted like a child, who even while he is sleeping 
 knows that it is his mother who is bending over him, and, 
 without waking, feels his mother's kisses. Like a mother, 
 Eugénie raised the drooping hand, and, like a mother, 
 laid a soft kiss on his hair. ' Dear Annette ! ' A mocking 
 voice shrieked the words in her ear. 
 
 ' I know that perhaps I may be doing wrong, but I will 
 read that letter,' she said. 
 
 Eugénie turned her eyes away ; her high sense of 
 honour reproached her. For the first time in her life 
 there was a struggle between good and evil in her soul. 
 Hitherto she had never done anything for which she 
 needed to blush. Love and curiosity silenced her scruples. 
 Her heart swelled higher with every phrase as she read;
 
 Eugénie Grandet 129 
 
 her quickened pulses seemed to send a sharp, tingling 
 glow through her veins, and to heighten the vivid 
 emotions of her first love. 
 
 * My dear Annette, — Nothing should have power 
 to separate us save this overwhelming calamity that has 
 befallen me, a calamity that no human foresight could 
 have predicted. My father has died by his own hand ; 
 his fortune and mine are both irretrievably lost. I am 
 left an orphan at an age when, with the kind of educa- 
 tion I have received, I am almost a child ; and, never- 
 theless, I must now endeavour to show myself a man, and 
 to rise from the dark depths into which I have been 
 hurled. I have been spending part of my time to-night 
 in revolving plans for my future. If I am to leave 
 France as an honest man, as of course I mean to do, I 
 have not a hundred francs that I can call my own with 
 which to tempt fate in the Indies or in America. Yes, my 
 poor Anna, I am going in quest of fortune to the most 
 deadly foreign climes. Beneath such skies, they say, fortunes 
 are rapidly and surely made. As for living on in Paris, 
 I could not bring myself to do it. I could not face the 
 coldness, the contempt, and the affronts that a ruined 
 man, the son of a bankrupt, is sure to receive. Great 
 heaven ! to owe two millions ! ... I should fall in a 
 duel before a week had passed. So I shall not return to 
 Paris. Your love — the tenderest, the most devoted love 
 that ever ennobled the heart of man — would not seek to 
 draw me back. Alas ! my darling, I have not money 
 enough to take me to you, that I might give and receive 
 one last kiss, a kiss that should put strength into me for 
 the task that lies before me. . . .' 
 
 ' Poor Charles, I did well to read this. I have money, 
 and he shall have it,' said Eugénie. She went on with 
 the letter when she could see for her tears. 
 
 ' I have not even begun to think of the hardships of 
 
 I
 
 130 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 poverty. Supposing that I find I have the hundred louis 
 to pay for my passage out, I have not a sou to lay 
 out on a trading venture. Yet, no ; I shall not have a 
 hundred louis, nor yet a hundred sous ; I have no idea 
 whether anything will be left when I have settled all my 
 debts in Paris. If there is nothing, I shall simply go to 
 Nantes and work my passage out. I will begin at the 
 bottom of the ladder, like many another man of energy 
 who has gone out to the Indies as a penniless youth, to 
 return thence a rich man. This morning I began to 
 look my future steadily in the face. It is far harder for 
 me than for others ; I have been the petted child of a 
 mother who idolised me, indulged by the best and kindest 
 of fathers ; and at my very entrance into the world I met 
 with the love of an Anna ! As yet 1 have only known 
 the primrose paths of life ; such happiness could not last. 
 Yet, dear Annette, I have more fortitude than could be 
 looked for from a thoughtless youth; above all, from a 
 young man thus lapped round in happiness from the 
 cradle, spoiled and flattered by the most delightful 
 woman in Paris, the darling of Fortune, whose wishes 
 were as law to a father who . . . Oh ! my father ! 
 He is dead, Annette ! . . . Well, I have thought 
 seriously over my position, and I have likewise thought 
 over yours. I have grown much older in the last 
 twenty-four hours. Dear Anna, even if, to keep me 
 beside you, you were to give up all the luxuries that 
 you enjoy, your box at the opera, and your toilette, 
 we should not have nearly sufficient for the necessary 
 expenses of the extravagant life that I am accustomed 
 to ; and besides, I could not think of allowing you to 
 make such sacrifices for me. To-day, therefore, we part 
 for ever.' 
 
 ' Then this is to take leave of her ! Sainte Vierge ! 
 what happiness ! ' 
 
 Eugénie started and trembled for joy. Charles stirred
 
 Eugénie Grandet 131 
 
 in his chair, and Eugénie felt a chill of dread. Luckily, 
 however, he did not wake. She went on reading. 
 
 ' When shall I come back ? I cannot tell. Europeans 
 grow old before their time in those tropical countries, 
 especially Europeans who work hard. Let us look forward 
 and try to see ourselves in ten years time. In ten years 
 from now your little girl will be eighteen years old ; she 
 will be your constant companion ; that is, she will be a 
 spy upon you. If the world will judge you very harshly, 
 your daughter will probably judge more harshly still ; 
 such ingratitude on a young girl's part is common 
 enough, and we know how the world regards these 
 things. Let us take warning and be wise. Only, keep 
 the memory of those four years of happiness in the depths 
 of your soul, as I shall keep them buried in mine ; and be 
 faithful, if you can, to your poor friend. I shall not be 
 too exacting, dear Annette ; for, as you can see, I must 
 submit to my altered lot ; I am compelled to look at life 
 in a business-like way, and to base my calculations on 
 dull, prosaic fact. So I ought to think of marriage as a 
 necessary step in my new existence ; and I will confess 
 to you that here, in my uncle's house in Saumur, there is 
 a cousin whose manners, face, character, and heart you 
 would approve ; and who, moreover, has, it appears ' 
 
 ' How tired he must have been to break ofF like this 
 when he was writing to her ! ' said Eugénie to herself, as 
 the letter ended abruptly in the middle of a sentence. 
 She was ready with excuses for him. 
 
 How was it possible that an inexperienced girl should 
 discover the coldness and selfishness of this letter ? For 
 young girls, religiously brought up as she had been, are 
 innocent and unsuspecting, and can see nothing but love 
 when they have set foot in love's enchanted kingdom. 
 It is as if a light from heaven shone in their own souls, 
 shedding its beams upon their path ; their lover shines
 
 132 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 transfigured before them in reflected glory, radiant with 
 fair colours from love's magic fires, and endowed with 
 noble thoughts which perhaps in truth are none of his. 
 Women's errors spring, for the most part, from a belief in 
 goodness, and a confidence in truth. In Eugenie's heart 
 the words, ' My dear Annette — my beloved,' echoed like 
 the fairest language of love ; they stirred her soul like 
 organ music — like the divine notes of the Venite adoremus 
 falling upon her ears in childhood. 
 
 Surely the tears, not dry even yet upon her cousin's 
 eyelids, betokened the innate nobility of nature that never 
 fails to attract a young girl. How could she know that 
 Charles's love and grief for his father, albeit genuine, was 
 due rather to the fact that his father had loved him than 
 to a deeply-rooted aff'ection on his own part for his 
 father ? M. and Mme. Guillaume Grandet had indulged 
 their son's every whim ; every pleasure that wealth could 
 bestow had been his ; and thus it followed that he had 
 never been tempted to make the hideous calculations that 
 are only too common among the younger members of a 
 family in Paris, when they see around them all the de- 
 lights of Parisian life, and reflect with disgust that, so 
 long as their parents are alive, all these enjoyments are 
 not for them. The strange result of the father's lavish 
 kindness had been a strong affection on the part of his 
 son, an affection unalloyed by any after thought. But, 
 for all that, Charles was a thorough child of Paris, with 
 the Parisian's habit of mind ; Annette herself had impressed 
 upon him the importance of thinking out all the con- 
 sequences of every step ; he was not youthful, despite the 
 mask of youth. 
 
 He had received the detestable education of a world in 
 which more crimes (in thought and word at least) are 
 committed in one evening than come before a court of 
 justice in the course of a whole session ; a world in which 
 great ideas perish, done to death by a witticism, and 
 where it is reckoned a weakness not to see things as they
 
 Eugénie Grandet 133 
 
 are. To see things as they are — that means, believe in 
 nothing, put faith in nothing and in no man, for there is 
 no such thing as sincerity in opinion or affection ; mis- 
 trust events, for even events at times have been known 
 to be manufactured. To see things as they are you must 
 w^eigh your friend's purse morning by morning ; you must 
 know by instinct the right moment to interfere for your 
 own profit in every matter that turns up ; you must keep 
 your judgment rigorously suspended, be in no hurry to 
 admire a work of art or a noble deed, and give every 
 one credit for interested motives on every possible 
 occasion. 
 
 After many follies, the great lady, the fair Annette, 
 compelled Charles to think seriously ; she talked to him 
 of his future, passing a fragrant hand through his hair, 
 and imparted counsel to him on the art of getting on in 
 the world, while she twisted a stray curl about her fingers. 
 She had made him effeminate, and now she set herself to 
 make a materialist of him, a twofold work of demoralisation, 
 a corruption none the less deadly because it never offended 
 against the canons of good society, good manners, and 
 good taste. 
 
 ' You are a simpleton, Charles,' she would say ; ' I see 
 that it will be no easy task to teach you the ways of the 
 world. You were very naughty about M. des Lupeaulx. 
 Oh ! he is not over-fastidious, I grant you, but you 
 should wait until he falls from power, and then you may 
 despise him as much as you like. Do you know what 
 Mme. Campan used to say to us ? " My children, so 
 long as a man is a Minister, adore him ; if he falls, help 
 to drag him to the shambles. He is a kind of deity so 
 long as he is in power, but after he is fallen and ruined 
 he is viler than Marat himself, for he is still alive, while 
 Marat is dead and out of sight. Life is nothing but a 
 series of combinations, which must be studied and 
 followed very carefully if a good position is to be success- 
 fully maintained." '
 
 134 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Charles had no very exalted aims ; he was too much 
 of a worldling ; he had been too much spoiled by his 
 father and mother, too much flattered by the society in 
 which he moved, to be stirred by any lofty enthusiasm. 
 In the clay of his nature there was a grain of gold, due to 
 his mother's teaching ; but it had been passed through the 
 Parisian draw-plate, and beaten out into a thin surface 
 gilding which must soon be worn away by contact with 
 the world. 
 
 At this time Charles, however, was only one-and- 
 twenty, and it is taken for granted that freshness of heart 
 accompanies the freshness of youth ; it seems so unlikely 
 that the mind within should be at variance with the 
 young face, and the young voice, and the candid glance. 
 Even the hardest judge, the most sceptical attorney, the 
 flintiest-hearted money-lender will hesitate to believe that 
 a wizened heart and a warped and corrupted nature can 
 dwell beneath a young exterior, when the forehead is 
 smooth and tears come so readily to the eyes. Hitherto 
 Charles had never had occasion to put his Parisian 
 maxims in practice ; his character had not been tried, 
 and consequently had not been found wanting ; but, all 
 unknown to him, egoism had taken deep root in his 
 nature. The seeds of this baneful political economy had 
 been sown in his heart ; it was only a question of time, 
 they would spring up and flower so soon as the soil was 
 stirred, as soon as he ceased to be an idle spectator and 
 became an actor in the drama of real life. 
 
 A young girl is nearly always ready to believe un- 
 questioningly in the promise of a fair exterior ; but even 
 if Eugénie had been as keenly observant and as cautious 
 as girls in the provinces sometimes are, hov/ could she 
 have brought herself to mistrust her cousin, when all he 
 did and said, and everything about him, seemed to be the 
 spontaneous outcome of a noble nature ? This was the 
 last outburst of real feeling, the last reproachful sigh of 
 conscience in Charles's life ; fate had thrown them
 
 Eugénie Grandet 135 
 
 together at that moment, and, unfortunately for her, all 
 her sympathies had been aroused for him. 
 
 So she laid down the letter that seemed to her so full 
 of love, and gave herself up to the pleasure of watching 
 her sleeping cousin ; the dreams and hopes of youth 
 seemed to hover over his face, and then and there she 
 vowed to herself that she would love him always. She 
 glanced over the other letter ; there could be no harm in 
 reading it, she thought ; she should only receive fresh 
 proofs of the noble qualities with which, womanlike, she 
 had invested the man whom she had idealised. 
 
 ' My dear Alphonse,' so it began, ' by the time this 
 letter is in your hands I shall have no friends left ; but I 
 will confess that though I put no faith in the worldly- 
 minded people who use the word so freely, I have no 
 doubts of your friendship for me. So I am commission- 
 ing you to settle some matters of business. I look to 
 you to do the best you can for me in this, for all I have 
 in the world is involved in it. By this time you must 
 know how I am situated. I have nothing, and have 
 made up my mind to go out to the Indies. I have just 
 written to all the people to whom any money is owing, 
 and the enclosed list is as accurate as I can make it 
 from memory. I think the sale of my books, furniture, 
 carriages, horses, and so forth ought to bring in sufficient 
 to pay my debts. I only mean to keep back a few 
 trinkets of little value, which will go some way towards 
 a trading venture. I will send you a power of attorney 
 in due form for this sale, my dear Alphonse, in case 
 any difficulty should arise. You might send my guns 
 and everything of that sort to me here. And you must 
 take " Briton " ; no one would ever give me anything 
 like as much as the splendid animal is worth ; I would 
 rather give him to you, you must regard him as the 
 mourning ring which a dying man leaves in his will to 
 his executor. Farry, Breilman and Co. have been
 
 136 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 building a very comfortable travelling carriage for me, 
 but they have not sent it home yet ; get them to keep it 
 if you can, and if they decline to have it left on their 
 hands, make the best arrangement you can for me, and 
 do all you can to save my honour in the position in which 
 I am placed. I lost six louis at play to that fellow^ from 
 the British Isles, mind that he is . . .' 
 
 ' Dear cousin,' murmured Eugénie, letting the sheet 
 fall, and, seizing one of the lighted candles, she hastened 
 on tiptoe to her ow^n room. 
 
 Once there, it was not without a keen feeling of 
 pleasure that she opened one of the drawers in an old oak 
 chest — a most beautiful specimen of the skill of the crafts- 
 men of the Renaissance, you could still make out the 
 half-effaced royal salamander upon it. From this drawer 
 she took a large red velvet money-bag, with gold tassels, 
 and the remains of a golden fringe about it, a bit of faded 
 splendour that had belonged to her grandmother. In the 
 pride of her heart she felt its weight, and joyously set to work 
 to reckon up the value of her little hoard, sorting out the 
 different coins, hnpriynis^ twenty Portuguese moidores 
 as new and fresh as when they were struck in 1725, in 
 the reign of John v. j each was nominally worth five 
 lisbonines, or a hundred and sixty-five francs, but actually 
 they were worth a hundred and eighty francs (so her 
 father used to tell her), a fancy value on account of the 
 rarity and beauty of the aforesaid coins, which shone like 
 the sun. //^;«, five genovines, rare Genoese coins of a 
 hundred livres each, their current value was perhaps about 
 eighty francs, but collectors would give a hundred for 
 them. These had come to her from old M. de la 
 Bertelliere. Item^ three Spanish quadruples of the time 
 of Philip v., bearing the date 1729. Mme. Gentillet had 
 given them to her, one by one, always with the same 
 little speech : ' There 's a little yellow bird, there 's a 
 buttercup for you, worth ninety-eight livres ! Take
 
 Eugénie Grandet 137 
 
 great care of it, darling ; it will be the flower of your 
 flock.' Item (and those were the coins that her father 
 thought most of, for the gold was a fraction over the 
 twenty-three carats), a hundred Dutch ducats, struck 
 at the Hague in 1756, and each worth about thirteen 
 francs. Item^ a great curiosity ! ... a few coins dear 
 to a miser's heart, three rupees bearing the sign of the 
 Balance, and five with the sign of the Virgin stamped 
 upon them, all pure gold of twenty-four carats — the 
 magnificent coins of the Great Mogul. The weight or 
 metal in them alone was worth thirty-seven francs forty 
 centimes, but amateurs who love to finger gold would 
 give fifty francs for such coins as those. Item^ the double 
 napoleon that had been given to her the day before, and 
 which she had carelessly slipped into the red velvet bag. 
 
 There were new gold pieces fresh from the mint among 
 her treasures, real works of art, which old Grandet liked 
 to look at from time to time, so that he might count them 
 over and tell his daughter of their intrinsic value, 
 expatiating also upon the beauty of the bordering, the 
 sparkling field, the ornate lettering with its sharp, clean, 
 flawless outlines. But now she gave not a thought to 
 their beauty and rarity ; her father's mania, and the risks 
 she ran by despoiling herself of a hoard so precious in his 
 eyes, were all forgotten. She thought of nothing but her 
 cousin, and managed at last to discover, after many 
 mistakes in calculation, that she was the owner of 
 eighteen hundred francs all told, or of nearly two 
 thousand francs if the coins were sold for their actual 
 value as curiosities. 
 
 She clapped her hands in exultation at the sight of her 
 riches, like a child who is compelled to find some outlet 
 for his overflowing glee and dances for joy. Father 
 and daughter had both counted their wealth that night ; 
 he in order to sell his gold, she that she might cast it 
 abroad on the waters of love. She put the money back into 
 the old purse, took it up, and went upstairs with it without
 
 138 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 a moment's hesitation. Her cousin's distress was the one 
 thought in her mind ; she did not even remember that it 
 was night, conventionalities were utterly forgotten ; her 
 conscience did not reproach her, she was strong in her 
 happiness and her love. 
 
 As she stood upon the threshold with the candle in 
 one hand and the velvet bag in the other, Charles awoke, 
 saw his cousin, and was struck dumb with astonishment. 
 Eugénie came forward, set the light on the table, and 
 said with an unsteady voice — 
 
 ' Cousin Charles, I have to ask your forgiveness for 
 something I have done ; it was very wrong, but if you 
 will overlook it, God will forgive me.' 
 
 ' What can it be ? ' asked Charles, rubbing his eyes. 
 
 ' I have been reading those two letters.' 
 
 Charles reddened. 
 
 ' Do you ask how I came to do it ? ' she went on, ' and 
 why I came up here ? Indeed, I do not know now ; and 
 I am almost tempted to feel glad that I read the letters, 
 for through reading them I have come to know your 
 heart, your soul, and . . .' 
 
 ' And what ? ' asked Charles. 
 
 ' And your plans — the difficulty that you are in for 
 want of money ' 
 
 ' My dear cousin ' 
 
 ' Hush ! hush ! do not speak so loud, do not let us 
 wake anybody. Here are the savings of a poor girl who 
 has no wants,' she went on, opening the purse. ' You 
 must take them, Charles. This morning I did not know 
 what money was ; you have taught me that it is simply a 
 means to an end, that is all. A cousin is almost a 
 brother ; surely you may borrow from your sister.' 
 
 Eugénie, almost as much a woman as a girl, had not 
 foreseen a refusal, but her cousin was silent. 
 
 ' Why, are you going to refuse me ? ' asked Eugénie. 
 The silence was so deep that the beating of her heart 
 was audible. Her pride was wounded by her cousin's
 
 Eugénie Grandet 139 
 
 hesitation, but the thought of his dire need came vividly 
 before her, and she fell on her knees. 
 
 ' I will not rise,' she said, ' until you have taken that 
 money. Oh ! cousin, say something, for pity's sake ! . . . 
 so that I may know^ that you respect me, that you are 
 generous, that . . .' 
 
 This cry, wrung from her by a noble despair, brought 
 tears to Charles's eyes ; he would not let her kneel, she 
 felt his hot tears on her hands, and sprang to her purse, 
 which she emptied out upon the table. 
 
 ' Well, then, it is " Yes," is it not ? ' she said, crying 
 for joy. ' Do not scruple to take it, cousin ; you will be 
 quite rich. That gold will bring you luck, you know. 
 Some day you shall pay it back to me, or, if you like, we 
 will be partners ; I will submit to any conditions that 
 you may impose. But you ought not to make so much 
 of this gift.' 
 
 Charles found words at last. 
 
 ' Yes, Eugénie, I should have a little soul indeed if I 
 would not take it. But nothing for nothing, confidence 
 for confidence,' 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' she asked, startled. 
 
 ' Listen, dear cousin, I have there ' 
 
 He interrupted himself for a moment to show her a 
 square box in a leather case, which stood on the chest of 
 drawers. 
 
 ' There is something there that is dearer to me than 
 life. That box was a present from my mother. Since 
 this morning I have thought that if she could rise from her 
 tomb she herself would sell the gold that in her tender- 
 ness she lavished on this dressing-case, but I cannot do 
 it — it would seem like sacrileo;e.' 
 
 Eugénie grasped her cousin's hand tightly in hers at 
 these last words. 
 
 ' No,' he went on after a brief pause, during which 
 they looked each at each with tearful eyes, ' I do not 
 want to pull it to pieces, nor to risk taking it with me
 
 140 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 on my wanderings. I will leave it in your keeping, dear 
 Eugénie. Never did one friend confide a more sacred 
 trust to another ; but you shall judge for yourself. 
 
 He drew the box from its leather case, opened it, and 
 displayed before his cousin's astonished eyes a dressing- 
 case resplendent with gold — the curious skill of the 
 craftsman had only added to the value of the metal. 
 
 ' All that you are admiring is nothing,' he said, press- 
 ing the spring of a secret drawer. ' There is something 
 which is worth more than all the world to me,' he added 
 sadly. 
 
 He took out two portraits, two of Mme. de Mirbel's 
 masterpieces, handsomely set in pearls. 
 
 ' How lovely she is ! Is not this the lady to whom you 
 were writing ? ' 
 
 ' No,' he said, with a little smile ; ' that is my mother, 
 and this is my father — your aunt and uncle. Eugénie, I 
 could beg and pray of you on my knees to keep this 
 treasure safe for me. If I should die, and lose your little 
 fortune, the gold will make good your loss ; and to you 
 alone can I leave those two portraits, for you alone are 
 worthy to take charge of them, but do not let them pass 
 into any other hands, rather destroy them . . .' 
 
 Eugénie was silent. 
 
 ' Well, " it is Tes^ is it not ? " ' he said, and there was 
 a winning charm in his manner. 
 
 As the last words were spoken, she gave him for the 
 first time such a glance as a loving woman can, a bright 
 glance that reveals a depth of feeling within her. He 
 took her hand and kissed it. 
 
 ' Angel of purity ! what is money henceforward between 
 us two ? It is nothing, is it not ? but the feeling, which 
 alone gave it worth, will be everything.' 
 
 ' You are like your mother. Was her voice as musical 
 as yours, I wonder ? ' 
 
 ' Oh ! far more sweet . . .' 
 
 ' Yes, for you,' she said, lowering her eyelids. ' Come,
 
 Eugénie Grandet 141 
 
 Charles, you must go to bed ; I wish it. You are very 
 tired. Good-night.' 
 
 Her cousin had caught her hand in both of his ; she 
 drew it gently away, and went down to her room, her 
 cousin lighting the way. In the doorway of her room 
 they both paused. 
 
 * Oh ! why am I a ruined man ? ' he said. 
 
 * Pshaw ! my father is rich, I believe,' she returned. 
 
 ' My poor child,' said Charles, as he set one foot in her 
 room, and propped himself against the wall by the door- 
 way, ' if your father had been rich, he would not have 
 let my father die, and you would not be lodged in such a 
 poor place as this ; he would live altogether in quite a 
 different style.' 
 
 ' But he has Froidfond.' 
 
 ' And what may Froidfond be worth ? ' 
 
 ' I do not know ; but there is Noyers too.' 
 
 '■ Some miserable farmhouse ! ' 
 
 ' He has vineyards and meadows ' 
 
 ' They are not worth talking about,' said Charles scorn- 
 fully. ' If your father had even twenty-four thousand 
 livres a year, do you suppose that you would sleep in a 
 bare, cold room like this ? ' he added, as he made a step 
 forward with his left foot. ' That is where my treasures 
 will be,' he went on, nodding towards the old chest, a 
 device by which he tried to conceal his thoughts from her. 
 
 ' Go,' she said, ' and try to sleep,' and she barred his 
 entrance into an untidy room. Charles drew back ; and 
 the cousins bade each other a smiling good-night. 
 
 They fell asleep, to dream the same dream ; and from 
 that time forward Charles found that there were still 
 roses to be gathered in the world in spite of his mourn- 
 ing. The next morning Mme. Grandet saw her daughter 
 walking with Charles before breakfast. He was still sad 
 and subdued ; how, indeed, should he be otherwise than 
 sad ? He had been brought very low in his distress ; he 
 was gradually finding out how deep the abyss was into
 
 142 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 which he had fallen, and the thought of the future 
 weighed heavily upon him. 
 
 ' My father will not be back before dinner,' said 
 Eugénie, in reply to an anxious look in her mother's eyes. 
 
 The tones of Eugenie's voice had grown strangely 
 sweet ; it was easy to see from her face and manner that 
 the cousins had some thought in common. Their souls 
 had rushed together, while perhaps as yet they scarcely 
 knew the power or the nature of this force which was 
 binding them each to each. 
 
 Charles sat in the dining-room ; no one intruded upon 
 his sorrow. Indeed, the three women had plenty to do. 
 Grandet had gone without any warning, and his work- 
 people were at a standstill. The slater came, the 
 plumber, the bricklayer, and the carpenter followed ; so 
 did labourers, tenants, and vinedressers, some came to 
 pay their dues, and others to receive them, and yet others 
 to make bargains for the repairs which were being done. 
 Mme. Grandet and Eugénie, therefore, were continually 
 coming and going; they had to listen to interminable 
 histories from labourers and country people. 
 
 Everything that came into the house Nanon promptly 
 and securely stowed away in her kitchen. She always 
 waited for her master's instructions as to what should be 
 kept, and what should be sold in the market. The 
 worthy cooper, like many little country squires, was 
 wont to drink his worst wine, and to reserve his spoiled 
 or wind-fallen orchard fruit for home consumption. 
 
 Towards five o'clock that evening Grandet came 
 back from Angers. He had made fourteen thousand 
 francs on his gold, and carried a Government certificate 
 bearing interest until the day when it should be trans- 
 ferred into rentes. He had left Cornoiller also in 
 Angers to look after the horses, which had been nearly 
 foundered by the night journey, and had given instruc- 
 tions to bring them back leisurely after they had had a 
 thorough rest.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 143 
 
 ' I have been to Angers, wife,' he said ; ' and I am 
 hungry,' 
 
 ' Have you had nothing to eat since yesterday ? ' called 
 Nanon from her kitchen. 
 
 ' Nothing whatever,' said the worthy man. 
 
 Nanon brought in the soup. Des Grassins came to 
 take his client's instructions just as the family were 
 sitting down to dinner. Grandet had not so much as 
 seen his nephew all this time. 
 
 ' Go on with your dinner, Grandet,' said the banker. 
 ' We can have a little chat. Have you heard what gold 
 is fetching in Angers, and that people from Nantes are 
 buying it there ? I am going to send some over.' 
 
 ' You need not trouble yourself,' answered his worthy 
 client ; ' they have quite enough there by this time. I 
 don't like you to lose your labour when I can prevent it ; 
 we are too good friends for that.' 
 
 'But gold is at thirteen francs fifty centimes premium.' 
 
 ' Say was at a premium.' 
 
 ' How the deuce did you get to know that ? ' 
 
 ' I went over to Angers myself last night,' Grandet 
 told him in a low voice. 
 
 The banker started, and a whispered conversation 
 followed ; both des Grassins and Grandet looked at 
 Charles from time to time, and once more a gesture of 
 surprise escaped the banker, doubtless at the point when 
 the old cooper commissioned him to purchase rentes to 
 bring in a hundred thousand livres. 
 
 ' M. Grandet,' said des Grassins, addressing Charles, 
 ' I am going to Paris, and if there is anything I can do 
 for you ' 
 
 ' Thank you, sir, there is nothing,' Charles replied, 
 
 ' You must thank him more heartily than that, 
 nephew. This gentleman is going to wind up your 
 father's business and settle with his creditors.' 
 
 ' Then is there any hope of coming to an arrangement ? ' 
 asked Charles.
 
 144 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' Why, are you not my nephew ? ' cried the cooper, 
 with a fine assumption of pride. 'Our honour is involved ; 
 is not your name Grandet ? ' 
 
 Charles rose from his chair, impulsively flung his arms 
 about his uncle, turned pale, and left the room. Eugénie 
 looked at her father with affection and pride in her 
 eyes. 
 
 ' Well, let us say good-bye, my good friend,' said 
 Grandet. ' I am very much at your service. Try to 
 get round those fellows over yonder.' 
 
 The two diplomatists shook hands, and the cooper 
 went to the door with his neighbour ; he came back to 
 the room again when he had closed the door on des 
 Grassins, flung himself down in his easy-chair, and said 
 to Nanon : ' Bring me some cordial.' 
 
 But he was too much excited to keep still ; he rose and 
 looked at old M. de la Bertellière's portrait, and began to 
 ' dance a jig,' in Nanon's phrase, singing to himself — 
 
 ' Once in the GarJesfiancaises 
 I had a grandpapa . . .' 
 
 Nanon, Mme, Grandet, and Eugénie all looked at each 
 other in silent dismay. The vinegrower's ecstasies never 
 boded any good. 
 
 The evening was soon over. Old Grandet went off 
 early to bed, and no one was allowed to stay up after 
 that ; when he slept, every one else must likewise sleep, 
 much as in Poland, in the days of Augustus the Strong, 
 whenever the king drank all his subjects were loyally 
 tipsy. Wherefore, Nanon, Charles, and Eugénie were 
 no less tired than the master of the house j and as for 
 Mme. Grandet, she slept or woke, ate or drank, as her 
 husband bade her. Yet during the two hours allotted to 
 the digestion of his dinner the cooper was more facetious 
 than he had ever been in his life before, and uttered not a 
 few of his favourite aphorisms ; one example will serve to 
 plumb the depths of the cooper's mind. When he had
 
 Eugénie Grandet 145 
 
 finished his cordial, he looked pensively at the glass, and 
 thus delivered himself — 
 
 ' You have no sooner set your lips to a glass than it is 
 empty ! Such is life. You cannot have your cake and 
 eat it too, and you can't turn over your money and keep 
 it in your purse ; if you could only do that, life w^ould be 
 too glorious.' 
 
 He was not only jocose, he was good-natured, so 
 that when Nanon came in with her spinning-wheel 
 — ' You must be tired,' he said ; ' let the hemp 
 alone.' 
 
 * And if I did,' the servant answered, ' ^ien^ I should 
 have to sit with my hands before me.' 
 
 ' Poor Nanon ! would you like some cordial ? ' 
 
 ' Cordial ? Oh ! I don't say no. Madame makes it 
 much better than the apothecaries do. The stuff they 
 sell is like physic' 
 
 ' They spoil the flavour with putting too much sugar 
 in it,' said the goodman. 
 
 The next morning, at the eight o'clock breakfast, the 
 party seemed, for the first time, almost like one family. 
 Mme. Grandet, Eugénie, and Charles had been drawn 
 together by these troubles, and Nanon herself uncon- 
 sciously felt with them. As for the old vinegrower, he 
 scarcely noticed his nephew's presence in the house, his 
 greed of gold had been satisfied, and he was very shortly 
 to be quit of this young sprig by the cheap and easy 
 expedient of paying his nephew's travelling expenses as far 
 as Nantes. 
 
 Charles and Eugénie meanwhile were free to do what 
 seemed to them good. They were under Mme. Grandet's 
 eyes, and Grandet reposed complete faith in his wife in 
 all matters of conduct and religion. Moreover, he had 
 other things to think of; his meadows were to be 
 drained, and a row of poplars was to be planted along the 
 Loire, and there was all the ordinary winter work at 
 
 K
 
 146 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Froidfond and elsewhere ; in fact, he was exceedingly- 
 busy. 
 
 And now began the springtime of love for Eugénie. 
 Since that hour in the night when she had given her gold 
 to her cousin, her heart had followed the gift. They 
 shared a secret between them ; they were conscious of 
 this understanding whenever they looked at each other ; 
 and this knowledge, that brought them more and more 
 closely together, drew them in a manner out of the 
 current of everyday life. And did not relationship justify 
 a certain tenderness in the voice and kindness in the eyes ? 
 Eugénie therefore set herself to make her cousin forget 
 his grief in the childish joys of growing love. 
 
 For the beginnings of love and the beginnings of life 
 are not unlike. Is not the child soothed by smiles and 
 cradle-songs, and fairy tales of a golden future that lies 
 before him ? Above him, too, the bright wings of hope 
 are always spread, and does he not shed tears of joy or of 
 sorrow, wax petulant over trifles and quarrelsome over 
 the pebbles with which he builds a tottering palace, or 
 the flowers that are no sooner gathered than forgotten ? 
 Is he not also eager to outstrip Time, and to live in the 
 future ? Love is the soul's second transformation. 
 
 Love and childhood were almost the same thing for 
 Charles and Eugénie ; the dawn of love and its childish 
 beginnings were all the sweeter because their hearts were 
 full of gloom ; and this love, that from its birth had been 
 enveloped in crape, was in keeping with their homely 
 surroundings in the melancholy old house. As the 
 cousins interchanged a few words by the well in the 
 silent courtyard, or sat out in the little garden towards 
 sunset time, wholly absorbed by the momentous nothings 
 that each said to each, or wrapped in the stillness that 
 always brooded over the space between the ramparts and 
 the house, Charles learned to think of love as something 
 sacred. Hitherto, with his great lady, his 'dear Annette,' 
 he had experienced little but its perils and storms ; but
 
 Eugénie Grandet 147 
 
 that episode in Paris was over, with its coquetry and 
 passion, its vanity and emptiness, and he turned to this 
 love in its purity and truth. 
 
 He came to feel a certain fondness for the old house, 
 and their way of life no longer seemed absurd to him. 
 He would come downstairs early in the morning so as to 
 snatch a few words with Eugénie before her father gave 
 out the stores ; and when the sound of Grandet's heavy 
 footstep echoed on the staircase, he fled into the garden. 
 Even Eugenie's mother did not know of this morning 
 tryst of theirs, and Nanon made as though she did not 
 see it ; it was a small piece of audacity that gave the 
 keen relish of a stolen pleasure to their innocent love. 
 Then when breakfast was over, and Goodman Grandet 
 had gone to see after his business and his improvements, 
 Charles sat in the grey parlour between the mother and 
 daughter, finding a pleasure unknown before in holding 
 skeins of thread for them to wind, in listening to their 
 talk, and watching them sew. There was something that 
 appealed to him strongly in the almost monastic simplicity 
 of the life, which had led him to discover the nobleness of 
 the natures of these two unworldly women. He had not 
 believed that such lives as these were possible in France ; 
 in Germany he admitted that old-world manners lingered 
 still, but in France they were only to be found in fiction 
 and in Auguste Lafontaine's novels. It was not long 
 before Eugénie became an embodiment of his ideal, 
 Goethe's Marguerite without her error. 
 
 Day after day, in short, the poor girl hung on his 
 words and looks, and drifted further along the stream of 
 love. She snatched at every happiness as some swimmer 
 might catch at an overhanging willow branch, that so 
 he might reach the bank and rest there for a little 
 while. 
 
 Was not the time of parting very near now ? The 
 shadow of that parting seemed to fall across the brightest 
 hours of those days that fled so fast ; and not one of them
 
 148 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 went by but something happened to remind her how 
 soon it would be upon them. 
 
 For instance, three days after des Grassins had started 
 for Paris, Grandet had taken Charles before a magistrate 
 with the funereal solemnity with which such acts are 
 performed by provincials, and in the presence of that 
 functionary the young man had had to sign a declaration 
 that he renounced all claim to his father's property. 
 Dreadful repudiation ! An impiety amounting to 
 apostasy ! He went to M. Cruchot to procure two 
 powers of attorney, one for des Grassins, the other for 
 the friend who was commissioned to sell his own per- 
 sonal effects. There were also some necessary formali- 
 ties in connection with his passport ; and finally, on the 
 arrival of the plain suit of mourning which Charles had 
 ordered from Paris, he sent for a clothier in Saumur, 
 and disposed of his now useless wardrobe. This transac- 
 tion was peculiarly pleasing to old Grandet. 
 
 ' Ah ! Now you look like a man who is ready to set 
 out, and means to make his way in the world,' he said, 
 as he saw his nephew in a plain, black overcoat of rough 
 cloth. ' Good, very good ! ' 
 
 ' I beg you to believe, sir,' Charles replied, ' that I 
 shall face my position with proper spirit.' 
 
 ' What does this mean ? ' asked his worthy relative ; 
 there was an eager look in the goodman's eyes at the 
 sight of a handful of gold which Charles held out to 
 him. 
 
 ' 1 have gathered together my studs and rings and 
 everything of any value that I have ; I am not likely to 
 want them now ; but I know of nobody in Saumur, and 
 this morning I thought I would ask you — ■ — ' 
 
 ' To buy it ? ' Grandet broke in upon him. 
 
 ' No, uncle, to give me the name of some honest man 
 who ' 
 
 ' Give it to me, nephew ; I will take it upstairs and 
 find out what it is worth, and let you know the value to
 
 Eugénie Grandet 149 
 
 a centime. Jeweller's gold,' he commented, after an 
 examination of a long chain, 'jeweller's gold, eighteen 
 to nineteen carats, I should say.' 
 
 The worthy soul held out his huge hand for it, and 
 carried ofF the whole collection. 
 
 ' Cousin Eugénie,' said Charles, ' permit me to ofîer 
 you these two clasps ; you might use them to fasten 
 ribbons round your wrists, that sort of bracelet is all the 
 rage just now.' 
 
 ' I do not hesitate to take it, cousin,' she said, with a 
 look of intelligence. 
 
 ' And, aunt, this is my mother's thimble ; I have 
 treasured it up till now in my dressing-case,' and he gave 
 a pretty gold thimble to Mme. Grandet, who for the past 
 ten years had longed for one. 
 
 'It is impossible to thank you in words, dear nephew,' 
 said the old mother, as her eyes filled with tears. 'But 
 morning and evening I shall repeat the prayer for 
 travellers, and pray most fervently for you. If anything 
 should happen to me, Eugénie shall take care of it for 
 you.' 
 
 ' It is worth nine hundred and eighty-nine francs 
 seventy-five centimes, nephew,' said Grandet, as he came 
 in at the door. ' But to save you the trouble of selling 
 it, I will let you have the money in livres.' 
 
 This expression ' in livres ' means, in the districts along 
 the Loire, that a crown of six livres is to be considered 
 worth six francs, without deduction. 
 
 ' I did not venture to suggest such a thing,' Charles 
 answered, ' but I shrank from hawking my trinkets 
 about in the town where you are living. Dirty linen 
 ought not to be washed in public, as Napoleon used to 
 say. Thank you for obliging me.' 
 
 Grandet scratched his ear, and there was a moment's 
 silence in ihe room. 
 
 ' And, dear uncle,' Charles went on, somewhat 
 nervously, and as though he feared to wound his uncle's
 
 150 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 susceptibilities, ' my cousin and aunt have consented to 
 receive trifling mementoes from me ; will you not in 
 your turn accept these sleeve-links, which are useless to 
 me now ; they may perhaps recall to your memory a 
 poor boy, in a far-off country, whose thought will 
 certainly often turn to those who are all that remain to 
 him now of his family.' 
 
 ' Oh ! my boy, my boy, you must not strip yourself 
 like that for us ' 
 
 ' What have you there, wife ? ' said the cooper, turning 
 eagerly towards her. ' Ah ! a gold thimble ? And you, 
 little girl ? Diamond clasps ; what next ! Come, I will 
 accept your studs, my boy,' he continued, squeezing 
 Charles's hand. 'But . . . you must let me pay . . . 
 your . . . yes, your passage out to the Indies. Yes, I 
 mean to pay your passage. Besides, my boy, when I 
 estimated your jewellery I only took it at its value as 
 metal, you see, without reckoning the workmanship, and 
 it may be worth a trifle more on that account. So that 
 is settled. I will pay you fifteen hundred francs ... in 
 livres ; Cruchot will lend it me, for I have not a brass 
 farthing in the house ; unless Perrotet, who is getting 
 behindhand with his dues, will pay me in coin. There ! 
 there ! I will go and see about it,' and he took up his hat, 
 put on his gloves, and went forthwith. 
 
 ' Then you are going ? ' said Eugénie, with sad, admir- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 'I cannot help myself,' he answered, with his head 
 bent down. 
 
 For several days Charles looked, spoke, and behaved 
 Hke a man who is in deep trouble, but who feels the 
 weight of such heavy obligations, that his misfortunes 
 only brace him for greater effort. He had ceased to pity 
 himself; he had become a man. Never had Eugénie 
 augured better of her cousin's character than she did on 
 the day when she watched him come downstairs in his 
 plain, black mourning suit, which set off his pale, sad face
 
 Eugénie Grandet 151 
 
 to such advantage. The two women had also gone into 
 mourning, and went with Charles to the Requiem mass 
 celebrated in the parish church for the soul of the late 
 Guillaume Grandet. 
 
 Charles received letters from Paris as they took the 
 mid-day meal ; he opened and read them. 
 
 'Well, cousin,' said Eugénie, in a low voice, 'are 
 your affairs going on satisfactorily ? ' 
 
 ' Never put questions of that sort, my girl,' remarked 
 Grandet. ' I never talk to you about my affairs, and 
 why the devil should you meddle in your cousin's ? 
 Just let the boy alone.' 
 
 ' Oh ! I have no secrets of any sort,' said Charles. 
 
 ' Tut, tut, tut. You will find out that you must 
 bridle your tongue in business, nephew.' 
 
 When the two lovers were alone in the garden, Charles 
 drew Eugénie to the old bench under the walnut tree 
 where they so often sat of late. 
 
 'I felt sure of Alphonse, and I was right,' he said ; 'he 
 has done wonders, and has settled my affairs prudently 
 and loyally. All my debts in Paris are paid, my furni- 
 ture sold well, and he tells me that he has acted on the 
 advice of an old sea captain who had made the voyage 
 to the Indies, and has invested the surplus money in 
 ornaments and odds and ends for which there is a great 
 demand out there. He has sent my packages to Nantes, 
 where an East Indiaman is taking freight for Java, and 
 so, Eugénie, in five days we must bid each other fare- 
 well, for a long while at any rate, and perhaps for ever. 
 My trading venture and the ten thousand francs which 
 two of my friends have sent me, are a very poor start ; I 
 cannot expect to return for many years. Dear cousin, 
 let us not consider ourselves bound in any way ; I may 
 die, and very likely some good opportunity for settling 
 yourself ' 
 
 ' You love me ? . . . ' she asked. 
 
 ' Oh ! yes, indeed,' he replied, with an earnestness of
 
 152 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 manner that betokened a like earnestness in his feel- 
 ings. 
 
 ' Then I will wait for you, Charles. T)ieu ! my 
 father is looking out of his window,' she exclaimed, 
 evading her cousin, who had drawn closer to embrace 
 her. 
 
 She fled to the archway ; and seeing that Charles 
 followed her thither, she retreated further, flung back the 
 folding door at the foot of the staircase, and with no very 
 clear idea, save that of flight, she rushed towards the 
 darkest corner of the passage, outside Nanon's sleeping 
 hole J and there Charles, who was close beside her, 
 grasped both hands in his and pressed her to his heart; 
 his arms went round her waist, Eugénie resisted no 
 longer, and leaning against her lover she received and 
 gave the purest, sweetest, and most perfect of all 
 kisses. 
 
 ' Dear Eugénie, a cousin is better than a brother ; he 
 can marry you,' said Charles. 
 
 ' Amen, so be it ! ' cried Nanon, opening the door 
 behind them, and emerging from her den. Her voice 
 startled the two lovers, who fled into the dining-room, 
 where Eugénie took up her sewing, and Charles seized on 
 Mme. Grandet's prayer book, opened it at the litanies of 
 the Virgin, and began to read industriously. 
 
 ' ^ien ! ' said Nanon, ' so we are all saying our 
 praye 
 
 ^ers ! ' 
 
 As soon as Charles fixed the day for his departure, 
 Grandet bustled about and affected to take the greatest 
 interest in the whole matter. He was liberal with advice, 
 and with anything else that cost him nothing, first 
 seeking out a packer for Charles, and then, saying that 
 the man wanted too much for his cases, setting to work 
 with all his might to make them himself, using odd 
 planks for the purpose. He was up betimes every 
 morning planing, fitting, nailing deal boards together,
 
 Eugénie Grandet 153 
 
 squaring and shapn g ; and, in fact, he made some strong 
 cases, packed all Charles's property in them, and undertook 
 to send them by steamer down the Loire to Nantes in 
 time to go by the merchant ship, and to insure them 
 during the voyage. 
 
 Since that kiss given and taken in the passage, the 
 hours sped v^^ith terrible rapidity for Eugénie. At times 
 she thought of following her cousin ; for of all ties that 
 bind one human being to another, this passion of love is 
 the closest and strongest, and those who know this, and 
 know how every day shortens love's allotted span, and 
 how not time alone but age and mortal sickness and all 
 the untoward accidents of life combine to menace it, — 
 these will know the agony that Eugénie suffered. She 
 shed many tears as she walked up and down the little 
 garden ; it had grown so narrow for her now ; the court- 
 yard, the old house, and the town had all grown narrow, 
 and her thoughts fared forth already across vast spaces 
 of sea. 
 
 It was the day before the day of departure. That 
 morning, while Grandet and Nanon were out of the 
 house, the precious casket that held the two portraits 
 was solemnly deposited in Eugenie's chest, beside the 
 now empty velvet bag in the only drawer that could be 
 locked, an installation which was not effected without 
 many tears and kisses. When Eugénie locked the drawer 
 and hid the key in her bosom, she had not the courage 
 to forbid the kiss by which Charles sealed the act. 
 
 ' The key shall alwavs stay there, dear.' 
 
 'Ah! well, my heart will always be there with it 
 too.' 
 
 ' Oh ! Charles, you should not say that,' she said a 
 little reproachfully. 
 
 ' Are we not married ? ' he replied. ' I have your 
 word ; take mine.' 
 
 ' Thine for ever ! ' they said together, and repeated it a 
 second time. No holier vow was ever made on earth :
 
 154 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 for Charles's love had received a moment's consecration 
 in the presence of Eugenie's simple sincerity. 
 
 It was a melancholy group round the breakfast-table 
 next morning. Even Nanon herself, in spite of Charles's 
 gift of a nev/ gown and a gilt cross, had a tear in her 
 eye ; but she was free to express her feelings, and did so. 
 
 ' Oh ! that poor, delicate young gentleman who is 
 going to sea,' was the burden of her discourse. 
 
 At half-past ten the whole family left the house to see 
 Charles start for Nantes in the diligence. Nanon had 
 let the dog loose, and locked the door, and meant to 
 carry Charles's handbag. Every shopkeeper in the ancient 
 street was in the doorway to watch the little procession 
 pass. M. Cruchot joined them in the market-place. 
 
 ' Eugénie,' whispered her mother, ' mind you do not 
 cry ! ' 
 
 They reached the gateway of the inn, and there 
 Grandet kissed Charles on both cheeks. ' Well ! 
 nephew,' he said, ' set out poor and come back rich ; you 
 leave your father's honour in safe keeping. I — Grandet — 
 will answer to you for that ; you will only have to do 
 your part ' 
 
 ' Oh ! uncle, this sweetens the bitterness of parting. 
 Is not this the greatest gift you could possibly give me ? ' 
 
 Charles had broken in upon the old cooper's remarks 
 before he quite understood their drift ; he put his arms 
 round his uncle's neck, and let fall tears of gratitude on 
 the vinegrower's sunburned cheeks ; Eugénie clasped her 
 cousin's hand in one of hers, and her father's in the other, 
 and held them tightly. Only the notary smiled to 
 himself J he alone understood the worthy man, and he 
 could not help admiring his astute cunning. The four 
 Saumurois and a little group of onlookers hung about the 
 diligence till the last moment ; and looked after it until 
 it disappeared across the bridge, and the sound of the 
 wheels grew faint and distant. 
 
 'A good riddance ! ' said the cooper.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 155 
 
 Luckily, no one but M. Cruchot heard this ejaculation ; 
 Eugénie and her mother had walked along the quay to a 
 point of view whence they could still see the diligence, 
 and stood there waving their handkerchiefs and watching 
 Charles's answering signal till he was out of sight ; then 
 Eugénie turned. 
 
 ' Oh ! mother, mother, if I had God's power for one 
 moment,' she said. 
 
 To save further interruption to the course of the story, 
 it is necessary to glance a little ahead, and give a brief 
 account of the course of events in Paris, of Grandet's 
 calculations, and the action taken by his worthy lieutenant 
 the banker in the matter of Guillaume Grandet's affairs. 
 A month after des Grassins had gone, Grandet received a 
 certificate for a hundred thousand livres per annum of 
 rentes^ purchased at eighty francs. No information was ever 
 forthcoming as to how and when the actual coin had been 
 paid, or the receipt taken, which in due course had been 
 exchanged for the certificate. The inventory and state- 
 ment of his afi^airs which the miser left at his death threw 
 no light upon the mystery, and Cruchot fancied that in some 
 way or other Nanon must have been the unconscious 
 instrument employed j for about that time the faithful 
 serving-maid was away from home for four or five days, 
 ostensibly to see after matters at Froidfond, as if its 
 worthy owner were likely to forget anything there that 
 required looking after ! As for Guillaume Grandet's 
 creditors, everything had happened as the cooper had 
 intended and foreseen. 
 
 At the Bank of France (as everybody knows) they 
 keep accurate lists of all the great fortunes in Paris or 
 in the departments. The names of des Grassins and of 
 Felix Grandet of Saumur were duly to be found inscribed 
 therein j indeed, they shone conspicuous there as well- 
 known names in the business world, as men who were 
 not only financially sound, but owners of broad acres 
 unencumbered by mortgages. And now it was said that
 
 156 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 des Grassins of Saumur had corne to Paris with intent to 
 call a meeting of the creditors of the firm of Guillaume 
 Grandet ; the shade of the wine merchant was to be 
 spared the disgrace of protested bills. The seals were 
 broken in the presence of the creditors, and the family- 
 notary proceeded to make out an inventory in due 
 form. 
 
 Before very long, in fact, des Grassins called a meeting 
 of the creditors, who with one voice appointed the banker 
 of Saumur as trustee conjointly with François Keller, the 
 head of a large business house, and one of the principal 
 creditors, empowering them to take such measures as they 
 thought fit, in order to save the family name (and the 
 bills) from being dishonoured. The fact that des Grassins 
 was acting as his agent produced a hopeful tone in the 
 meeting, and things went smoothly from the first ; the 
 banker did not find a sino-le dissentient voice. No one 
 thought of passing his bill to his profit and loss account, 
 and each one said to himself — 
 
 ' Grandet of Saumur is going to pay ! ' 
 
 Six months went by. The Parisian merchants had 
 withdrawn the bills from circulation, and had consigned 
 them to the depths of their portfolios. The cooper had 
 gained his first point. Nine months after the first 
 meeting the two trustees paid the creditors a dividend of 
 forty-seven per cent. This sum had been raised by the 
 sale of the late Guillaume Grandet's property, goods, 
 chattels and general efi'ects ; the most scrupulous in- 
 tegrity characterised these proceedings; indeed, the whole 
 affair was conducted with the most conscientious honesty, 
 and the delighted creditors fell to admiring Grandet's 
 wonderful, indubitable and high-minded probity. When 
 these praises had duly circulated for a sufficient length of 
 time, the creditors began to ask themselves when the 
 remainder of their money would be forthcoming, and be- 
 thought them of collectively writing a letter to Grandet. 
 
 ' Here we are ! ' was the old cooper's comment, as he
 
 Eugénie Grandet 157 
 
 flung the letter in the fire. ' Patience, patience, my 
 dear friends.' 
 
 By way of a reply to the propositions contained in the 
 letter, Grandet of Saumur required them to deposit with 
 a notary all the bills and claims against the estate of his 
 deceased brother, accompanying each with receipts for 
 the payments already made. The accounts were to be 
 audited, and the exact condition of affairs was to be 
 ascertained. Innumerable difficulties were cleared away 
 by this notion of the deposit. 
 
 A creditor, generally speaking, is a sort of maniac ; 
 there is no saying what a creditor will do. One day he 
 is in a hurry to bring the thing to an end, the next he is 
 all for fire and sword, a little later and he is sweetness 
 and benignity itself. To-day, very probably, his wife 
 is in a good humour, his youngest hope has just cut a 
 tooth, everything is going on comfortably at home, he 
 has no mind to abate his claims one jot ; but to-morrow 
 comes, and it rains, and he cannot go out ; he feels low 
 in his mind, and agrees hastily to anything and every- 
 thing that is likely to settle the affair ; the next morning 
 brings counsel ; he requires a guarantee, and by the end of 
 the month he talks about an execution, the inhuman, 
 bloodthirsty wretch ! The creditor is not unlike that 
 common or house sparrow on whose tail small children are 
 encouraged to try to put a grain of salt — a pleasing simile 
 which the creditor may twist to his own uses, and apply 
 to his bills, from which he fondly hopes to derive some 
 benefit at last. Grandet had observed these atmospheric 
 variations among creditors ; and his forecasts in the 
 present case were correct, his brother's creditors were 
 behaving in every respect exactly as he wished. Some 
 waxed wroth, and flatly declined to have anything to do 
 with the deposit, or to give up the vouchers. 
 
 ' Good ! ' said Grandet ; ' that is all right ! ' He 
 rubbed his hands as he read the letters which des Grassins 
 wrote to him on the subject.
 
 158 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Yet others refused to consent to the aforesaid deposit 
 unless their position was clearly defined in the first place ; 
 it was to be made without prejudice, and they reserved 
 the right to declare the estate bankrupt should they 
 deem it advisable. This opened a fresh correspondence, 
 and occasioned a further delay, after which Grandet 
 finally agreed to all the conditions, and as a consequence 
 the more tractable creditors brought the recalcitrant to 
 hear reason, and the deposit was made, not, however, 
 without some grumbling. 
 
 ' That old fellow is laughing in his sleeve at you and at 
 us too,' said they to des Grassins. 
 
 Twenty-three months after Guillaume Grandet's 
 death, many of the merchants had forgotten all about 
 their claims in the course of events in a business life in 
 Paris, or they only thought of them to say to themselves — 
 
 ' It begins to look as though the forty-seven per cent, 
 is about all I shall get out of that business.' 
 
 The cooper had reckoned on the aid of Time, who, so 
 he was wont to say, is a good fellow. By the end of 
 the third year, des Grassins wrote to Grandet saying 
 that he had induced most of the creditors to give up 
 their bills, and that the amount now owing was only 
 about ten per cent, of the outstanding two million four 
 hundred thousand francs. Grandet replied that there yet 
 remained the notary and the stockbroker, whose failures 
 had been the death of his brother ; they were still alive. 
 They might be solvent again by this time, and proceed- 
 ings ought to be taken against them ; something might 
 be recovered in this way which would still further reduce 
 the sum-total of the deficit. 
 
 When the fourth year drew to a close the deficit had 
 been duly brought down to the sum of twelve hundred 
 thousand francs ; the limit appeared to have been reached. 
 Six months were further spent in parleyings between the 
 trustees and the creditors, and between Grandet and the 
 trustees. In short, strong pressure being brought to
 
 Eugénie Grandet 159 
 
 bear upon Grandet of Saumur, he announced, somewhere 
 about the ninth month of the same year, that his nephew, 
 who had made a fortune in the East Indies, had signified 
 his intention of settling in full all claims on his father's 
 estate ; and that meantime he could not take it upon 
 himself to act, nor to defraud the creditors by winding 
 up the affair before he had consulted his nephew ; he 
 added that he had written to him, and was now awaiting 
 an answer. 
 
 The middle of the fifth year had been reached, and 
 still the creditors were held in check by the magic words 
 in full^ let fall judiciously from time to time by the sub- 
 lime cooper, who was laughing at them in his sleeve ; 
 'those Parisians,' he would say to himself, with a mild 
 oath, and a cunning smile would steal across his features. 
 
 In fact, a martyrdom unknown to the calendars of 
 commerce was in store for the creditors. When next 
 they appear in the course of this story, they will be 
 found in exactly the same position that they were in 
 now when Grandet had done with them. Consols 
 went up to a hundred and fifteen, old Grandet sold out, 
 and received from Paris about two million four hundred 
 thousand francs in gold, which went into his wooden 
 kegs to keep company with the six hundred thousand 
 francs of interest which his investment had brought in. 
 
 Des Grassins stayed on in Paris, and for the following 
 reasons. In the first place, he had been appointed a 
 deputy ; and in the second, he, the father of a family, 
 bored by the exceeding dulness of existence in Saumur, 
 was smitten with the charms of Mile. Florine, one of the 
 prettiest actresses of the Theatre de Madame, and there 
 was a recrudescence of the quarter-master in the banker. 
 It is useless to discuss his conduct ; at Saumur it was 
 pronounced to be profoundly immoral. It was very 
 lucky for his wife that she had brains enough to 
 carry on the concern at Saumur in her own name, 
 and could extricate the remains of her fortune, which had
 
 i6o Eugenie Grandet 
 
 suffered not a little from M. des Grassins' extravagance 
 and folly. But the quasi-widow was in a false position, 
 and the Cruchotins did all that in them lay to make 
 matters worse ; she had to give up all hope of a match 
 between her son and Eugénie Grandet, and married her 
 daughter very badly. Adolphe des Grassins went to join 
 his father in Paris, and there acquired, so it was said, an 
 unenviable reputation. The triumph of the Cruchotins 
 was complete. 
 
 ' Your husband has taken leave of his senses,' Grandet 
 took occasion to remark as he accommodated Mme. des 
 Grassins with a loan (on good security). ' I am very 
 sorry for you ; you are a nice little woman.' 
 
 'Ah ! ' sighed the poor lady, 'who could have believed 
 that day when he set out for Paris to see after that 
 business of yours that he was hurrying to his own ruin ? ' 
 
 ' Heaven is my witness, madame, that to the very last 
 1 did all I could to prevent him, and M. le Président was 
 dying to go ; but we know now why your husband was 
 so set upon it.' 
 
 Clearly, therefore, Grandet lay under no obligation to 
 des Grassins. 
 
 In every situation a woman is bound to suffer in many 
 ways that a man does not, and to feel her troubles more 
 acutely than he can ; for a man's vigour and energy is 
 constantly brought into play ; he acts and thinks, comes 
 and goes, busies himself in the present, and looks to the 
 future for consolation. This was what Charles was 
 doing. But a woman cannot help herself — hers is a 
 passive part ; she is left face to face with her trouble, 
 and has nothing to divert her mind from it ; she sounds 
 the depths of the abyss of sorrow, and its dark places 
 are filled with her prayers and tears. So it was with 
 Eugénie. She was beginning to understand that the 
 web of a woman's life will always be woven of love and 
 sorrow and hope and fear and self-sacrifice ; hers was to be
 
 Eugénie Grandet i6i 
 
 a woman's lot in ail things without a woman's consola- 
 tions and her moments of happiness (to make use of 
 Bossuet's wonderful illustration) were to be like the 
 scattered nails driven into the wall, when all collected 
 together they scarcely filled the hollow of the hand. 
 Troubles seldom keep us waiting for them, and for 
 Eugénie they were gathering thick and fast. 
 
 The day after Charles had gone, the Grandet house- 
 hold fell back into the old ways of life ; there was no 
 difference for any one but Eugénie — for her the house 
 had grown very empty all on a sudden. Charles's room 
 should remain just as he had left it ; Mme. Grandet and 
 Nanon lent themselves to this whim of hers, willingly 
 maintained the statu quo^ and said nothing to her father. 
 
 ' Who knows ? ' Eugénie said. ' He may come back 
 to us sooner than we think.' 
 
 ' Ah ! I wish I could see him here again,' replied 
 Nanon. * I could get on with him well enough ! He 
 was very nice, and an excellent gentleman ; and he was 
 pretty-like, his hair curled over his head just like a 
 girl's.' 
 
 Eugénie gazed at Nanon. 
 
 ' Holy Virgin ! mademoiselle, with such eyes, you are 
 like to lose your soul. You shouldn't look at people in 
 that way.' 
 
 From that day Mile. Grandet's beauty took a new 
 character. The grave thoughts of love that slowly 
 enveloped her soul, the dignity of a woman who is 
 beloved, gave to her face the sort of radiance that early 
 painters expressed by the aureole. Before her cousin 
 came into her life, Eugénie might have been compared 
 to the Virgin as yet unconscious of her destiny ; and 
 now that he had passed out of it, she seemed like the 
 Virgin Mother ; she, too, bore love in her heart. Spanish 
 art has depicted these two Marys, so different each from 
 each — Christianity, with its many symbols, knows no 
 more glorious types than these. 
 
 L
 
 1 62 Eugenie Grandet 
 
 The day after Charles had left them, Eugénie went to 
 mass (as she had resolved to do daily), and on her way 
 back bought a map of the world from the only bookseller 
 in the town. This she pinned to the wall beside her glass, 
 so that she might follow the course of her cousin's 
 voyage to the Indies ; and night and morning might be 
 beside him for a little while on that far-off vessel, and see 
 him and ask all the endless questions she longed to ask. 
 
 *Are you well ? Are you not sad? Am I in your 
 thoughts when you see the star that you told me about ? 
 You made me see how beautiful it was.' 
 
 In the morning she used to sit like one in a dream 
 under the great walnut tree, on the old grey, lichen- 
 covered, worm-eaten bench where they had talked so 
 kindly and so foolishly, where they had built such fair 
 castles in the air in which to live. She thought of the 
 future as she watched the little strip of sky shut in by 
 the high walls on every side, then her eyes wandered 
 over the old buttressed wall and the roof — Charles's room 
 lay beneath it. In short, this solitary persistent love 
 mingling with all her thoughts became the substance, 
 or, as our forefathers would have said, the 'stuff' of her life. 
 
 If Grandet's self-styled friends came in of an evening, 
 she would seem to be in high spirits, but the liveliness 
 was only assumed ; she used to talk about Charles with 
 her mother and Nanon the whole morning through, and 
 Nanon — who was of the opinion that without faltering 
 in her duty to her master she might yet feel for her 
 young mistress's troubles — Nanon spoke on this wise — 
 
 ' If I had had a sweetheart, I would have ... I would 
 havegone with him to hell. I would have . . . well, then, 
 I would just have laid down my life for him, but . . . 
 no such chance ! I shall die without knowing what it 
 is to live. Would you believe it, mam'selle, there is that 
 old Cornoiller, who is a good man all the same, dangling 
 about after my savings, just like the others who come 
 here paying court to you and sniffing after the master's
 
 Eugénie Grandet 163 
 
 money. I see through it ; I may be as big as a hay stack, 
 but I am as sharp as a needle yet. Well ! and yet do 
 you know, mam'selle, it may not be love, but I rather 
 like it.' 
 
 In this way two months went by. The secret that 
 bound the three women so closely together had brought 
 a new interest into the household life hitherto so 
 monotonous. For them Charles still dwelt in the house, 
 and came and went beneath the old grey rafters of the 
 parlour. Every morning and evening Eugenie opened 
 the dressing-case and looked at her aunt's portrait. Her 
 mother, suddenly coming into her room one Sunday 
 morning, found her absorbed in tracing out a likeness to 
 Charles in the lady of the miniature, and Mme. Grandet 
 learned for the first time a terrible secret, how that 
 Eugénie had parted with her treasures and had taken the 
 case in exchange. 
 
 ' You have let him have it all ! ' cried the terrified 
 mother. ' What will you say to your father on New 
 Year's Day when he asks to see your gold ? ' 
 
 Eugenie's eyes were set in a fixed stare ; the horror of 
 this thought so filled the women that half the morninp; 
 went by, and they were distressed to find themselves 
 too late for high mass, and were only in time for the 
 military mass. The year 18 19 was almost over; there 
 were only three more days left. In three days a terrible 
 drama would begin, a drama undignified by poison, 
 dagger, or bloodshed, but fate dealt scarcely more cruelly 
 with the princely house of Atreus than with the actors 
 in this bourgeois tragedy. 
 
 ' What is to become of us ? ' said Mme. Grandet, 
 laying down her knitting on her knee. 
 
 Poor mother ! all the events of the past two months 
 had sadly hindered the knitting, the woollen cuffs for 
 winter wear were not finished yet, a homely and 
 apparently insignificant fact which was to work trouble 
 enough for her. For want of the warm cuffs she caught
 
 164 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 a chill after a violent perspiration brought on by one of 
 her husband's fearful outbursts of rage. 
 
 * My poor child, I have been thinking that if you had 
 only told me about this, we should have had time to 
 write to M. des Grassins in Paris. He might have 
 managed to send us some gold pieces like those of yours ; 
 and although Grandet knows the look of them so well, 
 still perhaps . . .' 
 
 ' But where could we have found so much money ? ' 
 
 'I would have raised it on my property. Besides, 
 M. des Grassins would have befriended us . . .' 
 
 'There is not time enough now,' faltered Eugénie in 
 a smothered voice. ' To-morrow morning we shall have 
 to go to his room to wish him a happy New Year, shall 
 we not ? ' 
 
 ' Oh ! Eugénie, why not go and see the Cruchots 
 about it ? ' 
 
 ' No, no, that would be putting ourselves in their 
 power ; I should be entirely in their hands then. Besides, 
 I have made up my mind. I have acted quite rightly, and 
 I repent of nothing ; God will protect me. May His holy 
 will be done ! Ah ! if you had read that letter, mother, 
 you would have thought of nothing but him.' 
 
 The next morning, January i, 1820, the mother and 
 daughter were in an agony of distress that they could not 
 hide ; sheer terror suggested the simple expedient of 
 omitting the solemn visit to Grandet's room. The 
 bitter weather served as an excuse ; the winter of 
 1819-20 was the coldest that had been known for years, 
 and snow lay deep on the roofs. 
 
 Mme. Grandet called to her husband as soon as she 
 heard him stirring, * Grandet, just let Nanon light a bit 
 of fire in here for me, the air is so sharp that I am shiver- 
 ing under the bedclothes, and at my time of life I must 
 take care of myself. And then,' she went on after a 
 little pause, ' Eugénie shall come in here to dress. The
 
 Eugénie Grandet 165 
 
 poor girl may do herself a mischief if she dresses in her owji 
 room in such cold. We will come downstairs into the sitting- 
 room and wish you a happy New Year there by the fire.' 
 
 ' Tut, tut, tut, what a tongue ! What a way to 
 begin the year, Mme. Grandet ! You have never said 
 so much in your life before. You have not had a sop of 
 bread in wine, I suppose ? ' 
 
 There was a moment's pause. Doubtless his wife's 
 proposal suited his notions, for he said, ' Very well, I 
 will do as you wish, Mme. Grandet. You really are a 
 good sort of woman, it would be a pity for you to expire 
 before you are due, though, as a rule, the La Bertellières 
 make old bones, don't they, hey ? ' he cried, after a 
 pause. 'Well, their money has fallen in at last j I forgive 
 them,' and he coughed. 
 
 ' You are in spirits this morning,' said the poor wife. 
 
 ' I always am in spirits.' 
 
 Hey ! hey ! cooper gay, 
 
 Mend your tub and take your pay. 
 
 He had quite finished dressing, and came into his wife's 
 room. 'Yes, nom d'un petit bonhomme! it is a mighty 
 hard frost, all the same. We shall have a good breakfast 
 to-day, wife. Des Grassins has sent me a pâté de foies 
 gras, truffled ! I am going round to the coach office to 
 see after it. He should have sent a double napoleon for 
 Eugénie along with it,' said the cooper, coming closer, 
 and lowering his voice. ' I have no gold, I certainly 
 had a few old coins still left, I may tell you that in 
 confidence, but I had to let them go in the course of 
 business,' and by way of celebrating the first day of the 
 year he kissed his wife on the forehead. 
 
 ' Eugénie,' cried the kind mother, as soon as Grandet 
 had gone, ' I don't know which side of the bed your 
 father got out on, but he is in a good humour this 
 morning. Pshaw ! we shall pull through.' 
 
 ' What can have come over the master ? ' cried Nanon 
 as she came into the room to light the fire. ' First of
 
 1 66 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 all, he says, " Good morning, great stupid, a happy New 
 Year ! Go upstairs and light a fire in my wife's room ; 
 she is feeling cold." I thought I must be off my head 
 when 1 saw him holding out his hand with a six-franc 
 piece in it that hadn't been clipped a bit ! There ! 
 madame, only look at it ! Oh ! he is a worthy man, 
 all the same — he is a good man, he is. There are some 
 as get harder-hearted the older they grow ; but he turns 
 sweeter, like your cordial that improves with keeping. 
 He is a very good and a very excellent man . , . ' 
 
 Grandet's speculation had been completely successful j 
 this was the cause of his high spirits. M. des Grassins— 
 after deducting various amounts which the cooper owed 
 him, partly for discounting Dutch bills to the amount of 
 a hundred and fifty thousand francs, and partly for 
 advances of money for the purchase of a hundred 
 thousand livres worth of consols — M. des Grassins was 
 sending him, by diligence, thirty thousand francs in 
 crowns, the remainder (after the aforesaid deductions 
 had been made) of the cooper's half-yearly dividends, 
 and informed Grandet that consols were steadily rising. 
 They stood at eighty-nine at the present moment, and 
 well-known capitalists were buying for the next account 
 at the end of January at ninety-two. In two months 
 Grandet had made twelve per cent, on his capital ; he had 
 straightened his accounts ; and henceforward he would 
 receive fifty thousand francs every half year, clear of 
 taxes or any outgoing expenses. In short, he had 
 grasped the theory of consols (a class of investment of 
 which the provincial mind is exceedingly shy), and 
 looking ahead, he beheld himself the master of six 
 millions of francs in five years time — six millions, which 
 would go on accumulating with scarcely any trouble 
 on his part — six millions of francs ! And there was the 
 value of his landed property to add to this ; he saw him- 
 self in a fair way to build up a colossal fortune. The 
 six francs given to Nanon were perhaps in reality the
 
 Eugénie Grandet 167 
 
 payment for an immense service which the girl had 
 unwittingly done her master. 
 
 ' Oho ! what can Goodman Grandet be after ? He 
 is running as if there were a fire somewhere,' the shop- 
 keepers said to each other as they took down their 
 shutters that New Year's morning. 
 
 A little later when they saw him coming back from 
 the quay followed by a porter from the coach office, who 
 was wheeling a barrow piled up with little bags full of 
 something 
 
 ' Ah ! ' said they, ' water always makes for the river, 
 the old boy was hurrying after his crowns.' 
 
 ' They flow in on him from Paris, and Froidfond, and 
 Holland,' said one. 
 
 ' He will buy Saumur before he has done,' cried 
 another. 
 
 * He does not care a rap for the cold ; he is always 
 looking after his business,' said a woman to her husband. 
 
 ' Hi ! M. Grandet ! if you have more of that than 
 you know what to do with, I can help you to get rid of 
 some of it.' 
 
 ' Eh ! they are only coppers,' said the vinegrower. 
 
 'Silver, he means,^ said the porter in a low voice. 
 
 * Keep a still tongue in your head, if you want me to 
 bear you in mind,' said the goodman as he opened the 
 door. 
 
 ' Oh ! the old fox, I thought he was deaf,' said the 
 porter to himself, ' but it looks as though he could hear 
 well enough in cold weather.' 
 
 ' Here is a franc for a New Year's gift, and keep quiet 
 about this. Off with you ! Nanon will bring back the 
 barrow. Nanon ! ' cried Grandet, ' are the women-folk 
 gone to mass ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, sir.' 
 
 ' Come, look sharp and lend a hand here, then,' he 
 cried, and loaded her with the bags. In another minute
 
 1 68 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 the crowns were safely transferred to his room, where he 
 locked himself in. 
 
 ' Thump on the wall when breakfast is ready,' he called 
 through the door, ' and take the wheelbarrow back to the 
 coach office.' 
 
 It was ten o'clock before the family breakfasted. 
 
 ' Your father will not ask to see your gold now,' said 
 Mme. Grandet as they came back from mass ; ' and if he 
 does, you can shiver and say it is too cold to go upstairs for 
 it. We shall have time to make up the money again 
 before your birthday . . . ' 
 
 Grandet came down the stairs with his head full of 
 schemes for transforming the five-franc pieces just re- 
 ceived from Paris into gold coin, which should be neither 
 clipped nor light weight. He thought of his admirably 
 timed investment in Government stock, and made up 
 his mind that he would continue to put his money into 
 consols until they rose to a hundred francs. Such medita- 
 tions as these boded ill for Eugénie. As soon as he 
 came in the two women wished him a prosperous New 
 Year, each in her own way ; Mme. Grandet was grave 
 and ceremonious, but his daughter put her arms round 
 his neck and kissed him. ' Aha ! child,' he said, kissing 
 her on both cheeks, ' I am thinking and working for you, 
 you see ! . . . I want you to be happy and if you are 
 to be happy, you must have money ; for you won't get 
 anything without it. Look ! here is a brand new 
 napoleon, I sent to Paris on purpose for it. No?n (Tun 
 petit honhomme ! there is not a speck of gold in the house, 
 except yours, you are the one who has the gold. Let 
 me see your gold, little girl.' 
 
 'Bah ! it is too cold, let us have breakfast,' Eugénie 
 answered. 
 
 'Well, then, after breakfast we will have a look at it, 
 eh ? It will be good for our digestions. That great des 
 Grassins sent us this, all the same,' he went on, ' so get 
 your breakfasts, children, for it costs us nothing. Des
 
 Eugénie Grandet 169 
 
 Grassins is going on nicely ; I am pleased with him ; the 
 old fish is doing Charles a service, and all free gratis. 
 Really, he is managing poor dear Grandet's affairs very 
 cleverly. Ououh ! ououh ! ' he cried, with his mouth 
 full, ' this is good ! Eat away, wife ; there is enough 
 here to last us for two days at least.' 
 
 ' I am not hungry. I am very poorly, you know that 
 very well,' 
 
 ' Oh ! Ah ! but you have a sound constitution ; you 
 are a La Bertellière, and you can put away a great deal 
 without any fear of damaging yourself. You may be a 
 trifle sallow, but I have a liking for yellow myself 
 
 The prisoner shrinking from a public and ignominious 
 death could not well await his doom with a more sicken- 
 ing dread than Mme. Grandet and Eugénie felt as they 
 foresaw the end of breakfast and the inevitable sequel. 
 The more boisterously the cooper talked and ate, the 
 lower sank their spirits ; but to the girl, in this crisis, 
 a certain support was not lacking, love was strong within 
 her. 'I would die a thousand deaths,' she thought, 'for 
 him, for him ! ' 
 
 She looked at her mother, and courage and defiance 
 shone in her eyes. 
 
 By eleven o'clock they had finished breakfast. ' Clear 
 everything away,' Grandet told Nanon, 'but leave us the 
 table. We can look over your little treasure more com- 
 fortably so,' he said with his eyes on Eugénie. ' Little^ 
 said I ? 'Tis not so small, though, upon my word. 
 Your coins altogether are actually worth five thousand 
 nine hundred and fifty-nine francs, then with forty more 
 this morning, that makes six thousand francs all but one. 
 Well, I will give you another franc to make up the sum, 
 because, you see, little girl. . . . Well ! now, why are 
 you listening to us ? Just take yourself off, Nanon, and 
 set about your work ! ' 
 
 Nanon vanished. 
 
 ' Listen, Eugénie, you must let me have your gold.
 
 lyo Eugénie Grandet 
 
 You will not refuse to let your papa have it ? Eh, little 
 daughter ? ' 
 
 Neither of the women spoke. 
 
 * I myself have no gold left. I had some once, but I 
 have none now. I will give you six thousand francs 
 in silver for it, and you shall invest it ; I will show you 
 how. There is really no need to think of a dozen. 
 When you are married (which will be before very long) 
 I will find a husband for you who will give you the 
 handsomest do'zen that has ever been heard of hereabouts. 
 There is a splendid opportunity just now; you can invest 
 your six thousand francs in Government stock, and every 
 six months, when dividends are due, you will have about 
 two hundred francs coming in, all clear of taxes, and no 
 repairs to pay for, and no frosts nor hail nor bad seasons, 
 none of all the tiresome drawbacks you have to lay your 
 account with if you put your money into land. You 
 don't like to part with your gold, eh ? Is that it, little 
 girl ? Never mind, let me have it all the same. I will 
 look out for gold coins for you, ducats from Holland, 
 and genovines and Portuguese moidores and rupees, 
 the Mogul's rupees ; and what with the coins I shall 
 give you on your birthday and so forth, you will have 
 half your little hoard again in three years time, 
 beside the six thousand francs in the funds. What do 
 you say, little girl ? Look up, child ! There ! there ! 
 bring it here, my pet. You owe me a good kiss 
 for telling you business secrets and mysteries of 
 the life and death of five-franc pieces. Five-franc 
 pieces ! Yes, indeed, the coins live and gad about 
 just like men do ; they go and come and sweat and 
 multiply.' 
 
 Eugenie rose and made a few steps towards the door ; 
 then she turned abruptly, looked her father full in the 
 face, and said — 
 
 ' All my gold is gone ; I have none left.' 
 
 ' All your gold is gone ! ' echoed Grandet, starting
 
 Eugénie Grandet 171 
 
 up, as a horse might rear when the cannon thunders not 
 ten paces from him. 
 
 ' Yes, it is all gone.' 
 
 ' Eugenie ! you are dreaming ! ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' By my father's pruning-hook ! ' Whenever the 
 cooper swore in this fashion, the floors and ceilings 
 trembled. 
 
 'Lord have mercy!' cried Nanon ; 'how white the 
 mistress is ! ' 
 
 'Grandet ! you will kill me with your angry fits,' said 
 the poor wife. 
 
 ' Tut, tut, tut ; none of your family ever die. Now, 
 Eugénie ! what have you done with your money ? ' he 
 burst out as he turned upon her. 
 
 The girl was on her knees beside Mme. Grandet. 
 
 'Look! sir,' she said, 'my mother is very ill . . . do not 
 kill her.' 
 
 Grandet was alarmed ; his wife's dark, sallow com- 
 plexion had grown so white. 
 
 ' Nanon, come and help me up to bed,' she said in a 
 feeble voice. ' This is killing me . . .' 
 
 Nanon gave an arm to her mistress, and Eugénie sup- 
 ported her on the other side ; but it was only with the 
 greatest difficulty that they reached her room, for the 
 poor mother's strength completely failed her, and she 
 stumbled at every step. Grandet was left alone in the 
 parlour. After a while, however, he came part of the 
 way upstairs, and called out — 
 
 ' Eugénie ! Come down again as soon as your mother 
 is in bed.' 
 
 'Yes, father.' 
 
 In no long time she returned to him, after comforting 
 her mother as best she could. 
 
 ' Now, my daughter,' Grandet addressed her, ' you will 
 tell me where your money is.' 
 
 'If I am not perfectly free to do as I like with your
 
 172 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 presents, father, please take them back again,' said Eugénie 
 coldly. She went to the chimney-piece for the napoleon, 
 and gave it to her father. 
 
 Grandet pounced upon it, and slipped it into his waist- 
 coat pocket. 
 
 ' I will never give you anything again, I know,' he 
 said, biting his thumb at her. 'You look down on your 
 father, do you ? You have no confidence in him ? Do 
 you know what a father is ? If he is not everything to 
 you, he is nothing. Now ; where is your gold ? ' 
 
 ' I do respect you and love you, father, in spite of your 
 anger ; but I would very humbly point out to you that 
 I am twenty-two years old. You have told me that I 
 am of age often enough for me to know it. I have done 
 as I liked with my money, and rest assured that it is in 
 good hands ' 
 
 ' Whose ? ' 
 
 ' That is an inviolable secret,' she said. ' Have you 
 not your secrets ? ' 
 
 ' Am I not the head of my family ? May I not be 
 allowed to have my own business affairs?' 
 
 ' This is my own affair.' 
 
 ' It must be something very unsatisfactory, Mile. 
 Grandet, if you cannot tell your own father about it.' 
 
 ' It is perfectly satisfactory, and I cannot tell my father 
 about it.' 
 
 ' Tell me, at any rate, when you parted with your 
 gold.' _ 
 
 Eugénie shook her head. 
 
 'You still had it on your birthday, hadn't you ? Eh ?' 
 
 But if greed had made her father crafty, love had 
 taught Eugenie to be wary ; she shook her head again. 
 
 ' Did any one ever hear of such obstinacy, or of such a 
 robbery ? ' cried Grandet, in a voice which gradually rose 
 till it rang through the house. 'What! here^ in my 
 house, in my own house, some one has taken your gold ! 
 Taken all the gold that there was in the place ! And
 
 Eugénie Grandet 173 
 
 I am not to know who it was ? Gold is a precious thing. 
 The best of girls go wrong and throw themselves away 
 one way or another ; that happens among great folk, and 
 even among decent citizens ; but think of throwing gold 
 away ! For you gave it to somebody, I suppose, eh ? ' 
 
 Eugénie gave no sign. 
 
 ' Did any one ever see such a daughter ! Can you be 
 a child of mine ? If you have parted with your money, 
 you must have a receipt for it ' 
 
 ' Was I free to do as I wished with it — Yes or No ? 
 Was it mine ? ' 
 
 ' Why, you are a child.' 
 
 ' I am of age.' 
 
 At first Grandet was struck dumb by his daughter 
 daring to argue with him, and in this way ! He turned 
 pale, stamped, swore, and finding words at last, he 
 shouted — 
 
 ' Accursed serpent ! Miserable girl ! Oh ! you know 
 well that I love you, and you take advantage of it ! You 
 ungrateful child ! She would rob and murder her own 
 father ! Pardieu ! you would have thrown all we have 
 at the feet of that vagabond with the morocco boots. 
 By my father's pruning-hook, I cannot disinherit you, 
 but nom d'un tonneau^ I can curse you ; you and your 
 cousin and your children. Nothing good can come out 
 of this ; do you hear ? If it was to Charles that . . . 
 But, no, that is impossible. What if that miserable 
 puppy should have robbed me ? ' 
 
 He glared at his daughter, who was still silent and 
 unmoved. 
 
 *She does not stir! She does not flinch! She is 
 more of a Grandet than I am. You did not give your 
 gold away for nothing, anyhow. Come, now ; tell me 
 about it ? ' 
 
 Eugénie looked up at her father ; her satirical glance 
 exasperated him. 
 
 ' Eugénie, this is my house ; so long as you are under
 
 174 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 your father's roof you must do as your father bids you. 
 The priests command you to obey me.' 
 
 Eugénie bent her head again. 
 
 ' You are wounding all my tenderest feelings,' he 
 went on. 'Get out of my sight until you are ready to 
 obey me. Go to your room and stay there until I give 
 you leave to come out of it. Nanon will bring you 
 bread and water. Do you hear what I say ? Go ! ' 
 
 Eugénie burst into tears, and fled away to her mother. 
 Grandet took several turns in his garden without heeding 
 the snow or the cold ; then, suspecting that his 
 daughter would be in his wife's room, and delighted with 
 the idea of catching them in flagrant disobedience to 
 orders, he climbed the stairs as stealthily as a cat, and 
 suddenly appeared in Mme. Grandet's room. He was 
 right ; she was stroking Eugenie's hair, and the girl lay 
 with her face hidden in her mother's breast. 
 
 ' Poor child ! Never mind, your father will relent.' 
 
 ' She has no longer a father ! ' said the cooper. ' Is it 
 really possible, Mme. Grandet, that we have brought such 
 a disobedient daughter into the world ? A pretty 
 bringing up ; and pious, too, above all things ! Well ! 
 how is it you are not in your room ? Come, off to prison 
 with you ; to prison, miss.' 
 
 ' Do you mean to take my daughter away from me, 
 sir ? ' said Mme. Grandet, as she raised a flushed face 
 and bright, feverish eyes. 
 
 ' If you want to keep her, take her along with you, 
 and the house will be rid of you both at once. . . . 
 Tonnerre ! Where is the gold ? What has become of 
 the gold ? ' 
 
 Eugénie rose to her feet, looked proudly at her father, 
 and went into her room ; the goodman turned the key 
 in the door. 
 
 ' Nanon ! ' he shouted, ' you can rake out the fire in 
 the parlour ; then he came back and sat down in an
 
 Eugénie Grandet 175 
 
 easy-chair that stood between the fire and his wife's bed- 
 side, saying as he did so, ' Of course she gave her gold to 
 that miserable seducer Charles, who only cared for our 
 money.' 
 
 Mme. Grandet's love for her daughter gave her 
 courage in the face of this danger ; to all appearance she 
 was deaf, dumb, and blind to all that was implied by this 
 speech. She turned on her bed so as to avoid the angry 
 glitter of her husband's eyes. 
 
 ' I knew nothing about all this,' she said. ' Your 
 anger makes me so ill, that if my forebodings come 
 true I shall only leave this room when they carry me 
 out feet foremost. I think you might have spared me 
 this scene, sir. I, at all events, have never caused you 
 any vexation. Your daughter loves you, and I am sure 
 she is as innocent as a new-born babe ; so do not make 
 her miserable, and take back your word. This cold is 
 terribly sharp ; it might make her seriously ill.' 
 
 ' I shall neither see her nor speak to her. She shall 
 stop in her room on bread and water until she has done 
 as her father bids her. What the devil ! the head of a 
 family ought to know when gold goes out of his house, 
 and where it goes. She had the only rupees that there are 
 in France, for aught I know ; then there were genovines 
 besides, and Dutch ducats ' 
 
 ' Eugénie is our only child, and even if she had flung 
 them into the water ' 
 
 ' Into the water ! ' shouted the worthy cooper. ' Into the 
 water ! Mme. Grandet, you are raving ! When I say 
 a thing I mean it, as you know. If you want to have 
 peace in the house, get her to confess to you, and worm 
 this secret out of her. Women understand each other, 
 and are cleverer at this sort of thing than we are. 
 Whatever she may have done, I certainly shall not eat 
 her. Is she afraid of me ? If she had covered her cousin 
 with gold from head to foot, he is safe on the high seas 
 by this time, hein ? We cannot run after him '
 
 176 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 'Really, sir . . .' his wife began. 
 
 But Mme. Grandet's nature had developed during her 
 daughter's trouble ; she felt more keenly, and perhaps 
 her thoughts moved more quickly, or it may be that 
 excitement and the strain upon her over-vi^rought nerves 
 had sharpened her mental faculties. She saw^ the w^en on 
 her husband's face twitch ominously even as she began 
 to speak, and changed her purpose without changing her 
 voice. 
 
 ' Really, sir, have I any more authority over her than 
 you have ? She has never said a word about it to me. 
 She takes after you,' 
 
 ' Goodness ! your tongue is hung in the middle this 
 morning ! Tut, tut, tut ; you are going to fly in my 
 face, I suppose ? Perhaps you and she are both in it,' 
 
 He glared at his wife. 
 
 ' Really, M, Grandet, if you want to kill me, you have 
 only to keep on as you are doing, I tell you, sir, and if 
 it were to cost me my life, I would say it again — you are 
 too hard on your daughter ; she is a great deal more 
 sensible than you are. The money belonged to her ; she 
 could only have made a good use of it, and our good 
 works ought to be known to God alone. Sir, I implore 
 you, take Eugénie back into favour. It will lessen the 
 effect of the shock your anger gave me, and perhaps will 
 save my life. My daughter, sir ; give me back my 
 daughter ! ' 
 
 * I am off,' he said. ' It is unbearable here in my 
 house, when a mother and daughter talk and argue as 
 if . . . Brooouh ! Pouah ! You have given me bitter 
 New Year's gifts, Eugénie!' he called. 'Yes, yes, cry 
 away ! You shall repent it, do you hear ? What is the 
 good of taking the sacrament six times a quarter if you 
 give your father's gold away on the sly to an idle rascal 
 who will break your heart when you have nothing else 
 left to give him ? You will find out what he is, that 
 Charles of yours, with his morocco boots and his stand-off
 
 Eugénie Grandet 177 
 
 airs. He can have no heart and no conscience either, 
 when he dares to carry off a poor girl's money without 
 the consent of her parents.' 
 
 As soon as the street-door was shut, Eugénie stole out 
 of her room and came to her mother's bedside. 
 
 ' You were very brave for your daughter's sake,' she said. 
 
 ' You see where crooked ways lead us, child ! . . . 
 You have made me tell a lie.' 
 
 ' Oh ! mother, I will pray to God to let all the punish- 
 ment fall on me.' 
 
 ' Is it true ? ' asked Nanon, coming upstairs in dismay, 
 ' that mademoiselle here is to be put on bread and water 
 for the rest of her life ? ' 
 
 ' What does it matter, Nanon ?' asked Eugenie calmly. 
 
 * Why, before I would eat " kitchen " while the 
 daughter of the house is eating dry bread, I would . . . 
 no, no, it won't do.' 
 
 ' Don't say a word about it, Nanon,' Eugénie warned 
 her. 
 
 ' It would stick in my throat ; but you shall see.' 
 
 Grandet dined alone, for the first time in twenty-four 
 years. 
 
 ' So you are a widower, sir,' said Nanon. ' It is a very 
 dismal thing to be a widower when you have a wife and 
 daughter in the house.' 
 
 ' I did not speak to you, did I ? Keep a still tongue 
 in your head, or you will have to go. What have you in 
 that saucepan that I can hear boiling away on the stove ? ' 
 
 ' Some dripping that I am melting down ' 
 
 ' There will be some people here this evening ; light 
 the fire.' 
 
 The Cruchots and their friends, Mme. des Grassins 
 and her son, all came in about eight o'clock, and to their 
 amazement saw neither Mme. Grandet nor her daughter. 
 
 ' My wife is not very well to-day, and Eugénie is up- 
 stairs with her,' replied the old cooper, without a trace of 
 perturbation on his face. 
 
 M
 
 178 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 After an hour spent, in more or less trivial talk, Mme. 
 des Grassins, who had gone upstairs to see Mme. Grandet, 
 came down again to the dining-room, and was met with 
 a general inquiry of ' How is Mme. Grandet ? ' 
 
 ' She is very far from well,' the lady said gravely. 
 ' Her health seems to me to be in a very precarious state. 
 At her time of life you ought to take great care of her, 
 papa Grandet.' 
 
 ' We shall see,' said the vinegrower abstractedly, and 
 the whole party took leave of him. As soon as the 
 Cruchots were out in the street and the door was shut 
 behind them, Mme. des Grassins turned to them and 
 said, ' Something has happened among the Grandets. 
 The mother is very ill ; she herself has no idea how ill 
 she is, and the girl's eyes are red, as if she had been crying 
 for a long while. Are they wanting to marry her against 
 her will ? ' 
 
 That night, when the cooper had gone to bed, Nanon, 
 in list slippers, stole up to Eugenie's room, and displayed 
 a raised pie, which she had managed to bake in a saucepan. 
 
 ' Here, mademoiselle,' said the kind soul, ' Cornoiller 
 brought a hare for me. You eat so little that the pie 
 will last you for quite a week, and there is no fear of 
 its spoiling in this frost. You shall not live on dry bread, 
 at any rate ; it is not at all good for you.' 
 
 ' Poor Nanon ! ' said Eugénie, as she pressed the girl's 
 hand. 
 
 * I have made it very dainty and nice, and he never 
 found out about it. I paid for the lard and the bay-leaves 
 out of my six francs ; I can surely do as I like with my 
 own money,' and the old servant fled, thinking that she 
 heard Grandet stirring. 
 
 Several months went by. The cooper went to see his 
 wife at various times in the day, and never mentioned his 
 daughter's name — never saw her, nor made the slightest 
 allusion to her. Mme. Grandet's health grew worse and
 
 Eugénie Grandet 179 
 
 worse } she had not once left her room since that terrible 
 January morning. But nothing shook the old cooper's 
 determination ; he was hard, cold, and unyielding as a 
 block of granite. He came and went, his manner of life 
 was in nowise altered ; but he did not stammer now, and 
 he talked less ; perhaps, too, in matters of business, people 
 found him harder than before, but errors crept into his 
 book-keeping. 
 
 Something had certainly happened in the Grandet 
 family, both Cruchotins and Grassinistes were agreed on 
 that head ; and ' What can be the matter with the 
 Grandets ? ' became a stock question which people asked 
 each other at every social gathering in Saumur. 
 
 Eugénie went regularly to church, escorted by Nanon. 
 If Mme. des Grassins spoke to her in the porch as she 
 came out, the girl would answer evasively, and the lady's 
 curiosity remained ungratified. But after two months 
 spent in this fashion it was almost impossible to hide 
 the real state of affairs from Mme. des Grassins or from 
 the Cruchots ; a time came when all pretexts were 
 exhausted, and Eugenie's constant absence still demanded 
 an explanation. A little later, though no one could say 
 how or when the secret leaked out, it became common 
 property, and the whole town knew that ever since New 
 Year's Day Mile. Grandet had been locked up in her 
 room by her father's orders, and that there she lived on 
 bread and water in solitary confinement, and without a 
 fire. Nanon, it was reported, cooked dainties for her, and 
 brought food secretly to her room at night. Further 
 particulars were known. It was even said that only 
 when Grandet was out of the house could the young 
 girl nurse her mother, or indeed see her at all. 
 
 People blamed Grandet severely. He was regarded as 
 an outlaw, as it were, by the whole town; all his hard- 
 ness, his bad faith was remembered against him, and 
 every one shunned him. They whispered and pointed 
 at him as he went by j and as his daughter passed along
 
 i8o Eugénie Grandet 
 
 the crooked street on her way to mass or to vespers, with 
 Nanon at her side, people would hurry to their windows 
 and look curiously at the wealthy heiress's face — a face so 
 sad and so divinely sweet. 
 
 The town gossip reached her ears as slowly as it 
 reached her father's. Her imprisonment and her father's 
 displeasure was as nothing to her ; had she not her map 
 of the world ? And from her window could she not see 
 the little bench, the old wall, and the garden walks ? 
 Was not the sweetness of those past kisses still upon her 
 lips ? So, sustained by love and by the consciousness of 
 her innocence in the sight of God, she could patiently 
 endure her solitary life and her father's anger ; but there 
 was another sorrow, so deep and so overwhelming that 
 Eugénie could not find a refuge from it. The gentle, 
 patient mother was gradually passing away; it seemed as 
 if the beauty of her soul shone out more and more 
 brightly in those dark days as she drew nearer to the 
 tomb. Eugénie often bitterly blamed herself for this 
 illness, telling herself that she had been the innocent 
 cause of the painful malady that was slowly consuming 
 her mother's life ; and, in spite of all her mother said to 
 comfort her, this remorseful feeling made her cling more 
 closely to the love she was to lose so soon. Every 
 morning, as soon as her father had left the house, she 
 went to sit at her mother's bedside. Nanon used to 
 bring her breakfast to her there. But for poor Eugénie 
 in her sadness, this suffering was almost more than she 
 could bear ; she looked at her mother's face, and then at 
 Nanon, with tears in her eyes, and was dumb ; she 
 did not dare to speak of her cousin now. It was always 
 Mme. Grandet who began to talk of him ; it was she 
 who was forced to say, ' Where is he ? Why does he 
 not write ? ' 
 
 Neither mother nor daughter had any idea of the 
 distance. 
 
 ' Let us think of him without talking about him.
 
 Eugénie Grandet i8t 
 
 mother,' Eugénie would answer. ' You are suffering j 
 you come before every one ; ' and when she said, ' every 
 one,' Eugénie meant ' /;//«.' 
 
 ' I have no wish to live any longer, children,' Mme. 
 Grandet used to say. ' God in His protecting care has 
 led me to look forward joyfully to death as the end of 
 my sorrows.' 
 
 Everything that she said was full of Christian piety. 
 For the first few months of the year her husband break- 
 fasted in her room, and always, as he walked restlessly 
 about, he heard the same words from her, uttered with 
 angelic gentleness, but with firmness ; the near approach 
 of death had given her the courage which she had lacked 
 all her life. 
 
 ' Thank you, sir, for the interest which you take 
 in my health,' she said in response to the merest formality 
 of an inquiry; 'but if you really wish to sweeten the 
 bitterness of my last moments, and to alleviate my 
 sufferings, forgive our daughter, and act like a Christian, 
 a husband, and father.' 
 
 At these words Grandet would come and sit down by 
 the bed, much as a man who is threatened by a shower 
 betakes himself resignedly to the nearest sheltering arch- 
 way. He would say nothing, and his wife might say 
 what she liked. To the most pathetic, loving, and 
 fervent prayers, he would reply, ' My poor wife, you are 
 looking a bit pale to-day.' 
 
 His daughter seemed to have passed entirely out of his 
 mind ; the mention of her name brought no change over 
 his stony face and hard-set mouth. He always gave the 
 same vague answers to her pleadings, couched in almost 
 the same words, and did not heed his wife's white face, 
 nor the tears that flowed down her cheeks. 
 
 ' May God forgive you, as I do, sir,' she said. ' You 
 will have need of mercy some day.' 
 
 Since his wife's illness had began he had not ventured 
 to make use of his formidable ' Tut, tut, tut,' but his
 
 1 82 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 tyranny was not relaxed one whit by his wife's angeh'c 
 gentleness. 
 
 Her plain face was growing almost beautiful now as a 
 beautiful nature showed itself more and more, and her 
 soul grew absolute. It seemed as if the spirit of prayer 
 had purified and refined the homely features — as if they 
 were lit up by some inner light. Which of us has not 
 known such faces as this, and seen their final trans- 
 figuration — the triumph of a soul that has dwelt for so 
 long among pure and lofty thoughts that they set their 
 seal unmistakably upon the roughest lineaments at last ? 
 The sight of this transformation wrought by the physical 
 suffering which stripped the soul of the rags of humanity 
 that hid it, had a certain effect, however feeble, upon that 
 man of bronze — the old cooper. A stubborn habit of 
 silence had succeeded to his old contemptuous ways, a 
 wish to keep up his dignity as a father of a family was 
 apparently the motive for this course. 
 
 The faithful Nanon no sooner showed herself in the 
 market place than people began to rail at her master and 
 to make jokes at his expense ; but however loudly public 
 opinion condemned old Grandet, the maid-servant, 
 jealous for the honour of the family, stoutly defended 
 him. 
 
 ' Well, now,' she would say to those who spoke ill of 
 her master, ' don't we all grow harder as we grow older ? 
 And would you have him different from other people ? 
 Just hold your lying tongues. Mademoiselle lives like a 
 queen. She is all by herself no doubt, but she likes it ; 
 and my master and mistress have their very good reasons 
 for what they do.' 
 
 At last, one evening towards the end of spring, Mme. 
 Grandet, feeling that this trouble, even more than her 
 illness, was shortening her days, and that any further 
 attempt on her part to obtain forgiveness for Eugénie 
 was hopeless, confided her troubles to the Cruchots. 
 
 ' To put a girl of twenty-three on a diet of bread and
 
 Eugénie Grandet 183 
 
 water ! . . . ' cried the President de Bonfons, ' and 
 without just and sufficient cause ! Why, that con- 
 stitutes legal cruelty ; she might lodge a complaint ; in 
 as much as — — ' 
 
 ' Come, nephew,' said the notary, * that is enough of 
 your law court jargon. Be easy, madame ; I will bring 
 this imprisonment to an end to-morrow.' 
 
 Eugénie heard, and came out of her room. 
 
 ' Gentlemen,' she said, impelled by a certain pride, 
 * do nothing in this matter, I beg of you. My father is 
 master in his own house, and so long as I live under his 
 roof I ought to obey him. No one has any right to 
 criticise his conduct ; he is answerable to God, and to 
 God alone. If you have any friendly feeling for me, I 
 entreat you to say nothing whatever about this. If you 
 expose my father to censure, you would lower us all in 
 the eyes of the world. I am very thankful to you, 
 gentlemen, for the interest you have taken in me, and 
 you will oblige me still further if you will put a stop to 
 the gossip that is going on in the town. I only heard 
 of it by accident.' 
 
 ' She is right,' said Mme. Grandet. 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, the best possible way to stop people's 
 talk would be to set you at liberty,' said the old notary 
 respectfully ; he was struck with the beauty which 
 solitude and love and sadness had brought into Eugenie's 
 face. 
 
 'Well, Eugénie, leave it in M. Cruchot's hands, as 
 he seems to think success is certain. He knows 
 your father, and he knows, too, how to put the matter 
 before him. You and your father must be reconciled at 
 all costs, if you want me to be happy during the little 
 time I have yet to live.' 
 
 The next morning Grandet went out to take a certain 
 number of turns round the little garden, a habit that he 
 had fallen into during Eugenie's incarceration. He chose 
 to take the air while Eugénie was dressing ; and when he
 
 184 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 had reached the great walnut tree, he stood behind it 
 for a few moments and looked at her window. He 
 watched her as she brushed her long hair, and there was 
 a sharp struggle doubtless, between his natural stubborn 
 will and a longing to take his daughter in his arms and 
 kiss her. 
 
 He would often go to sit on the little worm-eaten bench 
 where Charles and Eugénie had vowed to love each 
 other for ever ; and she, his daughter, also watched her 
 father furtively, or looked into her glass and saw him 
 reflected there, and the garden and the bench. If he 
 rose and began to walk again, she went to sit in the 
 window. It was pleasant to her to be there. She 
 studied the bit of old wall, the delicate sprays of wild 
 flowers that grew in its crevices, the maidenhair fern, 
 the morning glories, and a little plant with thick leaves 
 and white or yellow flowers, a sort of stone-crop that 
 grows everywhere among the vines at Saumur and 
 Tours. 
 
 Old M. Cruchot came early on a bright June morning 
 and found the vinegrower sitting on the little bench 
 with his back against the wall, absorbed in watching his 
 daughter. 
 
 ' What can I do for you, M. Cruchot ? ' he asked, as 
 he became aware of the notary's presence. 
 
 ' I have come about a matter of business.' 
 
 ' Aha ! Have you some gold to exchange for crowns ? ' 
 
 ' No, no. It is not a question of money this time, 
 but of your daughter Eugénie. Everybody is talking 
 about you and her.' 
 
 ' What business is it of theirs ? A man's house is his 
 castle.' 
 
 * Just so ; and a man can kill himself if he has a mind, 
 or he can do worse, he can throw his money out of the 
 windows.' 
 
 ' What ? ' 
 
 ' Eh ! but your wife is very ill, my friend. You
 
 Eugénie Grandet 185 
 
 ought even to call in M. Bergerin, her life is in danger. 
 If she were to die for want of proper care, you would 
 hear of it, I am sure.' 
 
 'Tut, tut, tut ! you know what is the matter with 
 her, and when once one of these doctors sets foot in 
 your house, they will come five or six times a day.' 
 
 ' After all, Grandet, you will do as you think best. 
 We are old friends ; there is no one in all Saumur who 
 has your interests more at heart than I, so it was only my 
 duty to let you know this. Whatever happens, you are 
 responsible, and you understand your own business, so 
 there it is. Besides, that was not what I came to speak 
 about. There is something else more serious for you, 
 perhaps ; for, after all, you do not wish to kill your wife, 
 she is too useful to you. Just think what your position 
 would be if anything happened to Mme. Grandet ; you 
 would have your daughter to face. You would have to 
 give an account to Eugénie of her mother's share of your 
 joint estate ; and if she chose, your daughter might demand 
 her mother's fortune, for she, and not you, will succeed 
 to it ; and in that case, you might have to sell Froid- 
 fond.' 
 
 Cruchot's words were like a bolt from the blue ; for 
 much as the worthy cooper knew about business, he 
 knew very little law. The idea of a forced sale had 
 never occurred to him. 
 
 ' So I should strongly recommend you to treat her 
 kindly,' the notary concluded. 
 
 ' But do you know what she has done, Cruchot ? ' 
 * No. What was it ? ' asked the notary ; he felt curious 
 to know the reason of the quarrel, and a confidence from 
 old Grandet was an interesting novelty. 
 ' She has given away her gold.' 
 'Oh ! well, it belonged to her, didn't it ? ' 
 ' That is what they all say ! ' said the goodman, letting 
 his arms fall with a tragic gesture. 
 
 ' And for a trifle like that you would shut yourself out
 
 1 86 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 from all hope of any concessions which you will want her 
 to make if her mother dies ? ' 
 
 ' Ah ! do you call six thousand francs in gold a 
 trifle ? ' 
 
 ' Eh ! my old friend, have you any idea what it will 
 cost you to have your property valued and divided if 
 Eugénie should compel you to do so ? ' 
 
 * What would it cost ? ' 
 
 'Two, three, or even four thousand francs. How 
 could you know what it is worth unless you put it up to 
 public auction ? While if you come to an under- 
 standing ' 
 
 ' By my father's pruning hook ! ' cried the vinegrower, 
 sinking back, and turning quite pale. 'We will see 
 about this, Cruchot.' 
 
 After a moment of agony or of dumb bewilderment, 
 the worthy man spoke, with his eyes fixed on his neigh- 
 bour's face. ' Life is very hard ! ' he said. ' It is full of 
 troubles. Cruchot,' he went on, earnestly, 'you are 
 incapable of deceiving me ; give me your word of 
 honour that this ditty of yours has a solid foundation. 
 Let me look at the Code ; I want to see the Code ! ' 
 
 ' My poor friend,' said the notary, ' I ought to under- 
 stand my own profession.' 
 
 ' Then it is really true ? I shall be plundered, cheated, 
 robbed, and murdered by my own daughter ! ' 
 
 'She is her mother's heiress.' 
 
 ' Then what is the good of having children ? Oh ! 
 my wife, I love my wife ; luckily she has a sound con- 
 stitution ; she is a La Bertellière.' 
 
 ' She has not a month to live.' 
 
 The cooper struck his forehead, took a few paces, and 
 then came back again. 
 
 ' What is to be done ? ' he demanded of Cruchot, with 
 a tragic expression on his face. 
 
 ' Well, perhaps Eugénie might simply give up her 
 claims to her mother's property. You do not mean to
 
 Eugénie Grandet 187 
 
 disinherit her, do you ? But do not treat her harshly if 
 you want her to make a concession of that kind. I am 
 speaking against my own interests, my friend. How do 
 I make a living but by drawing up inventories and convey- 
 ances and deeds of arrangement and by winding up 
 estates ? ' 
 
 * We shall see, we shall see. Let us say no more 
 about this now, Cruchot. You have wrung my very 
 soul. Have you taken any gold lately ? ' 
 
 'No ; but I have some old louis, nine or ten perhaps, 
 which you can have. Look here, my good friend, make 
 it up with Eugénie J all Saumur is pointing a finger at you.' 
 
 ' The rogues ! ' 
 
 ' Well, consols have risen to ninety-nine, so you should 
 be satisfied for once in your life.' 
 
 ' At ninety-nine, Cruchot ? ' 
 
 ' Yes.' 
 
 * Hey ! hey ! ninety-nine ! ' the old man said, as he 
 went with the notary to the street door. He felt too 
 much agitated by what he had just heard to stay 
 quietly at home ; so he went up to his wife's room. 
 
 ' Come, mother, you may spend the day with your 
 daughter, I am going to Froidfond. Be good, both of 
 you, while I am away. This is our wedding day, dear 
 wife. — Stay ! here are ten crowns for you, for the Fête- 
 Dieu procession ; you have wanted to give it for long 
 enough. Take a holiday ! have some fun, keep up your 
 spirits and get well. Vive la joie ! ' 
 
 He threw down ten crowns of six francs each upon 
 the bed, took her face in his hands, and kissed her on the 
 forehead. 
 
 ' You are feeling better, dear wife, are you not ? ' 
 
 ' But how can you think of receiving God, who forgives, 
 into your house, when you have shut your heart against 
 your daughter ? ' she said, with deep feeling in her voice. 
 
 ' Tut, tut, tut ! ' said the father soothingly ; ' we will 
 see about that.'
 
 1 88 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' Merciful heaven ! Eugénie ! ' called the mother, 
 her face flushed with joy ; ' Eugénie, come and give your 
 father a kiss, you are forgiven ! ' But her v/orthy father 
 had vanished. He fled with all his might in the direction 
 of his vineyards, where he set himself to the task of con- 
 structina; his new world out of this chaos of strange 
 ideas. 
 
 Grandet had just entered upon his sixty-seventh year. 
 Avarice had gained a stronger hold upon him during the 
 past two years of his life ; indeed, all lasting passions 
 grow with man's growth ; and it had come to pass with 
 him, as with all men whose lives are ruled by one master- 
 idea, that he clung with all the force of his imagination 
 to the symbol which represented that idea for him. 
 Gold — to have gold, that he might see and touch it, had 
 become with him a perfect monomania. His disposition 
 to tyrannise had also grown with his love of money, and 
 it seemed to him to be monstrous that he should be called 
 upon to give up the least portion of his property on the 
 death of his wife. Was he to render an account of 
 her fortune, and to have an inventory drawn up of every- 
 thing he possessed — personalty and real estate, and put 
 it all up to auction ? 
 
 ' That would be stark ruin,' he said aloud to himself, 
 as he stood among his vines and examined their stems. 
 
 He made up his mind at last, and came back to 
 Saumur at dinner time fully determined on his course. 
 He would humour Eugénie, and coax and cajole her so 
 that he might die royally, keeping the control of his 
 millions in his hands until his latest sigh. It happened 
 that he let himself in with his master key ; he crept 
 noiselessly as a wolf up the stairs to his wife's room, 
 which he entered just as Eugénie was setting the dress- 
 ing-case, in all its golden glory, upon her mother's bed. 
 The two women had stolen a pleasure in Grandet's 
 absence ; they were looking at the portraits and tracing 
 out Charles's features in his mother's likeness.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 189 
 
 ' It is just his forehead and his mouth ! ' Eugenic was 
 saying, as the vinegrower opened the door. 
 
 Mme. Grandet saw how her husband's eyes darted 
 upon the gold. ' Oh ! God have pity upon us ! ' she 
 cried. 
 
 The vinegrower seized upon the dressing-case as a 
 tiger might spring upon a sleeping child. 
 
 ' What may this be ? ' he said, carrying off the 
 treasure to the window, where he ensconced himself 
 with it. * Gold ! solid gold!' he cried, 'and plenty 
 of it too ; there is a couple of pounds' weight here. Aha ! 
 so this was what Charles gave you in exchange for your 
 pretty gold pieces ! Why did you not tell me ? It was 
 a good stroke of business, little girl. You are your 
 father's own daughter, I see. (Eugénie trembled from 
 head to foot.) This belongs to Charles, doesn't it ? ' 
 the good man went on. 
 
 ' Yes, father ; it is not mine. That case is a sacred 
 trust.' 
 
 ' Tut, tut, tut ! he has gone off with your money ; 
 you ought to make good the loss of your little treasure.' 
 
 'Oh! father! . . .' 
 
 The old man had taken out his pocket-knife, with a 
 view to wrenching away a plate of the precious metal, 
 and for the moment had been obliged to lay the case on 
 a chair beside him. Eugénie sprang forward to secure 
 her treasure ; but the cooper, who had kept an eye upon 
 his daughter as well as upon the casket, put out his arm 
 to prevent this, and thrust her back so roughly that she 
 fell on to the bed. 
 
 'Sir ! sir ! ' cried the mother, rising and sitting upright. 
 
 Grandet had drawn out his knife, and was about to 
 insert the blade beneath the plate. 
 
 ' Father ! ' cried Eugenie, going down on her knees 
 and dragging herself nearer to him as she knelt ; ' father, 
 in the name of all the saints, and the Holy Virgin, for 
 the sake of Christ who died on the cross, for your own
 
 I go Eugénie Grandet 
 
 soul's salvation, father, if you have any regard for my life, 
 do not touch it ! The case is not yours, and it is not 
 mine. It belongs to an unhappy kinsman, vi^ho gave it 
 into my keeping, and I ought to give it back to him 
 untouched.' 
 
 * What do you look at it for if it is a deposit ? Look- 
 ing at it is worse than touching it.' 
 
 'Do not pull it to pieces, father ! You will bring dis- 
 honour upon me. Father ! do you hear me ? ' 
 
 'For pity's sake, sir ! ' intreated the mother. 
 
 ' Father ! ' 
 
 The shrill cry rang through the house and brought 
 the frightened Nanon upstairs. Eugénie caught up a 
 knife that lay within her reach. 
 
 ' Well ? ' said Grandet, calmly, with a cold smile on 
 his lips. 
 
 'Sir ! you are killing me ! ' said the mother. 
 
 'Father, if you cut away a single scrap of gold, I shall 
 stab myself with this knife. It is your doing that my 
 mother is dying, and now my death will also be laid at 
 your door. It shall be wound for wound.' 
 
 Grandet held his knife suspended above the case, looked 
 at his daughter, and hesitated. 
 
 ' Would you really do it, Eugénie ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' Yes, sir ! ' said the mother. 
 
 'She would do as she says,' cried Nanon. 'Do be 
 sensible, sir, for once in your life.' 
 
 The cooper wavered for a moment, looking first at the 
 gold, and then at his daughter. 
 
 Mme. Grandet fainted. 
 
 ' There ! sir, you see, the mistress is dying,' cried 
 Nanon. 
 
 'There! there! child, do not let us fall out about a 
 box. Just take it back ! ' cried the cooper hastily, throw- 
 ing the case on to the bed. 'And, Nanon, go for 
 M. Bergerin. Come ! come ! mother,' he said, and he 
 kissed his wife's hand ; ' never mind, there ! there ! we
 
 Eugénie Grandet 191 
 
 have made it up, haven't we, little girl ? No more dry 
 bread ; you shall eat whatever you like . . . Ah ! she is 
 opening her eyes. Well, now, little mother, dear little 
 mother, don't take on so ! Look ! I am going to kiss 
 Eugénie ! She loves her cousin, does she ? She shall 
 marry him if she likes ; she shall keep his little case for 
 him. But you must live for a long while yet, my poor 
 wife ! Come ! turn your head a little. Listen ! you 
 shall have the finest altar at the Fête-Dieu that has ever 
 been seen in Saumur.' 
 
 ' Oh ! mon Dieu ! how can you treat your wife and 
 daughter in this way ! ' moaned Mme. Grandet. 
 
 ' I will never do so again, never again ! ' cried the 
 cooper. ' You shall see, my poor wife.' 
 
 He went to his strong room and returned with a hand- 
 ful of louis d'or, which he scattered on the coverlet. 
 
 ' There ! Eugénie, there ! wife, those are for you,' he 
 said, fingering the gold coins as they lay. 'Come! 
 cheer up, and get well, you shall want for nothing, 
 neither you nor Eugénie. There are a hundred louis for 
 her. You will not give them away, will you, eh, 
 Eugénie ? ' 
 
 Mme. Grandet and her daughter gazed at each other 
 in amazement. 
 
 'Take back the money, father; we want nothing, 
 nothing but your love.' 
 
 ' Oh ! well, just as you like,' he said, as he pocketed 
 the louis, ' let us live together like good friends. Let us 
 all go down to the dining-room and have dinner, 
 and play loto every evening, and put our two sous 
 into the pool, and be as merry as the maids. Eh ! my 
 wife ? ' 
 
 'Alas ! how I wish that I could, if you would like it,' 
 said the dying woman, ' but I am not strong enough to 
 get up.' 
 
 ' Poor mother ! ' said the cooper, ' you do not know 
 how much I love you ; and you too, child ! '
 
 192 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 He drew his daughter to him and embraced her with 
 fervour. 
 
 ' Oh ! how pleasant it is to kiss one's daughter after 
 a squabble, my little girl ! There ! mother, do you 
 see ? We are quite at one again now. Just go and 
 lock that away,' he said to Eugénie, as he pointed to 
 the case. ' There ! there ! don't be frightened ; I will 
 never say another word to you about it.' 
 
 M. Bergerin, who was regarded as the cleverest doctor 
 in Saumur, came before very long. He told Grandet 
 plainly after the interview that the patient was very 
 seriously ill ; that any excitement might be fatal to her ; 
 that with a light diet, perfect tranquillity, and the most 
 constant care, her life might possibly be prolonged until 
 the end of the autumn. 
 
 'Will it be an expensive illness?' asked the worthy 
 householder. 'Will she want a lot of physic ? ' 
 
 ' Not much physic, but very careful nursing,' answered 
 the doctor, who could not help smiling. 
 
 'After all, M. Bergerin, you are a man of honour,' 
 said Grandet uneasily. ' I can depend upon you, can I 
 not ? Come and see my wife whenever, and as often as 
 you think it really necessary. Preserve her life. My 
 good wife — I am very fond of her, you see, though I 
 may not show it ; it is all shut up inside me, and I 
 am one that takes things terribly to heart ; I am in 
 trouble too. It all began with my brother's death ; I am 
 spending, oh ! — heaps of money in Paris for him, — the 
 very eyes out of my head in fact, and it seems as if there 
 were no end to it. Good day, sir. If you can save my 
 wife, save her, even if it takes a hundred, or two hundred 
 francs.' 
 
 In spite of Grandet's fervent wishes that his wife 
 might be restored to health, for this question of the 
 inheritance was like a foretaste of death for him ; in 
 spite of his readiness to fulfil the least wishes of the 
 astonished mother and daughter in every possible way j
 
 Eugénie Grandet 193 
 
 in spite of Eugenie's tenderest and most devoted care, 
 it was evident that Mme. Grandet's life was rapidly 
 drawing to a close. Day by day she grew weaker, and, 
 as often happens at her time of life, she had no strength 
 to resist the disease that was wasting her away. She 
 seemed to have no more vitality than the autumn leaves ; 
 and as the sunlight shining through the leaves turns 
 them to gold, so she seemed to be transformed by the 
 light of heaven. Her death was a fitting close to her 
 life, a death wholly Christian ; is not that saying that it 
 was sublime ? Her love for her daughter, her meek 
 virtues, her angelic patience, had never shone more 
 brightly than in that month of October 1822, when she 
 passed away. All through her illness she had never 
 uttered the slightest complaint, and her spotless soul left 
 earth for heaven with but one regret — for the daughter 
 whose sweet companionship had been the solace of her 
 dreary life, and for whom her dying eyes foresaw troubles 
 and sorrows manifold. She trembled at the thought of 
 this lamb, spotless as she herself was, left alone in the 
 world among selfish beings who sought to despoil her of 
 her fleece, her treasure. 
 
 'There is no happiness save in heaven,' she said just 
 before she died ; ' you will know that one day, my 
 child.' 
 
 On the morrow after her mother's death, it seemed to 
 Eugénie that she had yet one more reason for clinging 
 fondly to the old house where she had been born, and 
 where she had found life so hard of late — it became for 
 her the place where her mother had died. She could 
 not see the old chair set on little blocks of wood, the 
 place by the window where her mother used to sit, with- 
 out shedding tears. Her father showed her such tender- 
 ness, and took such care of her, that she began to think 
 that she had never understood his nature ; he used to 
 come to her room and take her down to breakfast on his 
 arm, and sit looking at her for whole hours with some- 
 
 N
 
 194 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 thing almost like kindness in his eyes, with the same 
 brooding look that he gave his gold. Indeed, the old 
 cooper almost trembled before his daughter, and was 
 altogether so unlike himself, that Nanon and the 
 Cruchotins wondered at these signs of weakness, and set 
 it down to his advanced age ; they began to fear that 
 the old man's mind was giving way. But when the 
 day came on which the family began to wear their 
 mourning, M. Cruchot, who alone was in his client's 
 confidence, was invited to dinner, and these mysteries 
 were explained. Grandet waited till the table had been 
 cleared, and the doors carefully shut. 
 
 Then he began. 'My dear child, you are your 
 mother's heiress, and there are some little matters of 
 business that we must settle between us. Is not that 
 so, eh, Cruchot ? ' 
 
 * Yes.' 
 
 ' Is it really pressing ; must it be settled to-dav, 
 father ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, little girl. I could not endure this sus- 
 pense any longer, and I am sure that you would not 
 make things hard for me.' 
 
 ' Oh ! father ' 
 
 ' Well, then, everything must be decided to-night.' 
 
 ' Then what do you want me to do ? ' 
 
 ' Why, little girl, it is not for me to tell you. You 
 tell her, Cruchot.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle, your father wants neither to divide 
 nor to sell his property, nor to pay a heavy succession 
 duty upon the ready money he may happen to have 
 just now. So if these complications are to be avoided, 
 there must be no inventory made out, and all the 
 property must remain undivided for the present ' 
 
 ' Cruchot, are you quite sure of what you are saying 
 that you talk in this way before a child ? ' 
 
 'Let me say what I have to say, Grandet.' 
 
 ' Yes, yes, my friend. Neither vou nor my daughter
 
 Eugénie Grandet 195 
 
 would plunder me. You would not plunder me, would 
 you, little girl? 
 
 ' But what am I to do, M. Cruchot ? ' asked Eugénie, 
 losing patience. 
 
 ' Well,' said the notary, ' you must sign this deed, by 
 which you renounce your claims to your mother's 
 property ; the property would be secured to you, but 
 your father would have the use of it for his life, and there 
 would be no need to make a division now.' 
 
 ' I understand nothing of all this that you are saying,' 
 Eugénie answered ; ' give me the deed, and show me 
 where I am to sign my name.' 
 
 Grandet looked from the document to his daughter, 
 and again from his daughter to the document. His 
 agitation was so great that he actually wiped several 
 drops of perspiration from his forehead. 
 
 ' I would much rather you simply waived all claim to 
 your poor dear mother's property, little girl,' he broke 
 in, 'instead of signing that deed. It will cost a lot to 
 register it. I would rather you renounced your claims 
 and trusted to me for the future. I would allow you a 
 good round sum, say a hundred francs every month. 
 You could pay for masses then, you see ; you could have 
 masses said for any one that . . . Eh? A hundred francs 
 (in livres) every month ? ' 
 
 ' I will do just as you like, father.' 
 
 ' Mademoiselle,' said the notary, ' it is my duty to point out 
 to you that youare robbing yourself without guarantee ' 
 
 ^ Eh ! mon Dieuf she answered. 'What does that 
 matter to me ? ' 
 
 'Do be quiet, Cruchot. So it is settled, quite settled ! ' 
 cried Grandet, taking his daughter's hand and striking his 
 own into it. ' You will not go back from your word, 
 Eugénie ? You are a good girl, hein ! ' 
 
 'Oh! father ' 
 
 In his joy he embraced his daughter, almost suffocating 
 her as he did so.
 
 \g6 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 'There! child, you have given fresh life to your 
 father ; but you are only giving him what he gave you, 
 so we are quits. This is how business ought to be con- 
 ducted, and life is a business transaction. Bless you ! 
 You are a good girl, and one that really loves her old 
 father. You can do as you like now. Then good-bye 
 till to-morrow, Cruchot,' he added, turning to the horrified 
 notary. ' You will see that the deed of renunciation is 
 properly drawn up for the clerk of the court.' 
 
 By noon next day the declaration was drawn up, and 
 Eugénie herself signed away all her rights to her heritage. 
 Yet a year slipped by, and the cooper had not kept his 
 promise, and Eugénie had not received a sou of the 
 monthly income which was to have been hers ; when 
 Eugénie spoke to him about it, half laughingly, he could 
 not help blushing ; he hurried up to his room, and when 
 he came down again he handed her about a third of the 
 jewellery which he had purchased of his nephew. 
 
 'There ! child,' he said, with a certain sarcastic ring in 
 his voice ; 'will you take these for your twelve hundred 
 francs ? ' 
 
 ' Oh ! father, really ? Will you really give them to 
 me ? ' 
 
 ' You shall have as much next year again,' said he, 
 flinging it into her lap; 'and so, before very long, you 
 will have all his trinkets,' he added, rubbing his hands. 
 He had made a very good bargain, thanks to his daughter's 
 sentiment about the jewellery, and was in high good- 
 humour. 
 
 Yet, although the old man was still hale and vigorous, 
 he began to see that he must take his daughter into his 
 confidence, and that she must learn to manage his con- 
 cerns. So with this end in view he required her to be 
 present while he gave out the daily stores, and for two 
 years he made her receive the portion of the rent which 
 was paid in kind. Gradually she came to know the 
 names of the vineyards and farms ; he took her with him
 
 Eugénie Grandet 197 
 
 when he visited his tenants. By the end of the third 
 year he considered the initiation was complete ; and, in 
 truth, she had fallen into his ways unquestioningly, till 
 it had become a matter of habit with her to do as her 
 father had done before her. He had no further doubts, 
 gave over the keys of the storeroom into her keeping, and 
 installed her as mistress of the house. 
 
 Five years went by in this way, and no event disturbed 
 their monotonous existence. Eugénie and her father 
 lived a life of methodical routine with the same regularity 
 of movement that characterised the old clock ; doing the 
 same things at the same hour day after day, year after 
 year. Every one knew that there had been a profound 
 sorrow in Mile. Grandet's life ; every circle in Saumur 
 had its theories of this secret trouble, and its suspicions 
 as to the state of the heiress's heart, but she never let 
 fall a word that could enlighten any one on either 
 point. 
 
 She saw no one but the three Cruchots and a few of 
 their friends, who had gradually been admitted as visitors 
 to the house. Under their instruction she had mastered 
 the game of whist, and they dropped in nearly every 
 evening for a rubber. In the year 1827 her father began 
 to feel the infirmities of age, and was obliged to take her 
 still further into his confidence ; she learned the full 
 extent of his landed possessions, and was recommended 
 in all cases of difficulty to refer to the notary Cruchot, 
 whose integrity could be depended upon. Grandet had 
 reached the age of eighty-two, and towards the end of 
 the year had a paralytic seizure, from which he never 
 rallied. M. Bergerin gave him up, and Eugénie realised 
 that very shortly she would be quite alone in the world ; 
 the thought drew her more closely to her father ; she 
 clung to this last link of affection that bound her to 
 another soul. Love was all the world for her, as it is 
 for all women who love ; and Charles had gone out of 
 her world. She nursed her father with sublime devotion 3
 
 198 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 the old man's intellect had grown feeble, but the greed 
 of gold had become an instinct which survived his 
 faculties. 
 
 Grandet died as he had lived. Every morning during 
 that slow death he had himself wheeled across his room 
 to a place beside the fire, whence he could keep the door 
 of his cabinet in view ; on the other side of the door, no 
 doubt, lay his hoarded treasures of gold. He sat there, 
 passive and motionless ; but if any one entered the room, 
 he would glance uneasily at the new-comer, and then at 
 the door with its sheathing of iron plates. He would ask 
 the meaning of every sound, however faint, and, to the 
 notary's amazement, the old man heard the dog bark in 
 the yard at the back of the house. He roused from this 
 apparent stupor at the proper hour on the days for receiv- 
 ing his rents and dues, for settling accounts with his 
 vine-dressers, and giving receipts. Then he shifted his 
 armchair round on its casters, until he faced the door of his 
 cabinet, and his daughter was called upon to open it, and 
 to put away the little bags of money in neat piles, one 
 upon the other. He would watch her until it was all 
 over and the door was locked again ; and as soon as she 
 had returned the precious key to him, he would turn 
 round noiselessly and take up his old position, putting 
 the key in his waistcoat pocket, where he felt for it from 
 time to time. 
 
 His old friend the notary felt sure that it was only a 
 question of time, and that Eugénie must of necessity 
 marry his nephew the magistrate, unless, indeed, Charles 
 Grandet returned ; so he redoubled his attentions. He 
 came every day to take Grandet's instructions, went at 
 his bidding to Froidfond, to farm and meadow and vine- 
 yard ; sold vintages, and exchanged all moneys received 
 for gold, which was secretly sent to join the piles of bags 
 stored up in the cabinet. 
 
 Then death came up close at last, and the vinegrower's 
 strong frame wrestled with the Destroyer. Even in
 
 Eugénie Grandet 199 
 
 those days he would sit as usual by the fire, facing the 
 door of his cabinet. He used to drag off the blankets 
 that they wrapped round him, and try to fold them, and 
 say to Nanon, ' Lock that up ; lock that up, or they will 
 rob me.' 
 
 So long as he could open his eyes, where the last 
 sparks of life seemed to linger, they used to turn at once to 
 the door of the room where all his treasures lay, and he 
 would say to his daughter, in tones that seemed to thrill 
 with a panic of fear — 
 
 ' Are they there still? ' 
 
 ' Yes, father' 
 
 ' Ktep watch over the gold ! . . . Let me see the 
 gold.' 
 
 Then Eugénie used to spread out the louis on a table 
 before him, and he would sit for whole hours with his 
 eyes fixed on the louis in an unseeing stare, like that of a 
 child who begins to see for the first time ; and some- 
 times a weak infantine smile, painful to see, would steal 
 across his features. 
 
 ' That warms me ! ' he muttered more than once, and 
 his face expressed a perfect content. 
 
 When the curé came to administer the sacrament, all 
 the life seemed to have died out of the miser's eyes, but 
 they lit up for the first time for many hours at the sight 
 of the silver crucifix, the candlesticks, and holy water 
 vessel, all of silver ; he fixed his gaze on the precious 
 metal, and the wen twitched for the last time. 
 
 As the priest held the gilded crucifix above him that 
 the image of Christ might be laid to his lips, he made a 
 frightful effort to clutch it — a last effort which cost him 
 his life. He called to Eugénie, who saw nothing ; she 
 was kneeling beside him, bathing in tears the hand that 
 was growing cold already. ' Give me your blessing, 
 father,' she entreated. ' Be very careful ! ' the last words 
 came from him ; ' one day you will render an account to 
 me of everything here below.' Which utterance clearly
 
 200 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 shows that a miser should adopt Christianity as his 
 rehgion. 
 
 So Eugénie Grandet was alone in the world, and her 
 house was left to her desolate. There was no one but 
 Nanon with whom she could talk over her troubles ; she 
 could look into no other eyes and find a response in 
 them ; big Nanon was the only human being who loved 
 her for herself. For Eugénie, Nanon was a providence ; 
 she was no longer a servant, she was a humble friend. 
 
 M. Cruchot informed Eugénie that she had three 
 hundred thousand livres a year, derived from landed 
 property in and around Saumur, besides six millions in 
 the three per cents, (invested when the funds were at 
 sixty francs, whereas they now stood at seventy-seven), 
 and in ready money two millions in gold, and a hundred 
 thousand francs in silver, without counting any arrears 
 that were due. Altogether her property amounted to 
 about seventeen million francs. 
 
 'Where can my cousin be ? ' she said to herself. 
 
 On the day when M. Cruchot laid these facts before 
 his new client, together with the information that the 
 estate was now clear and free from all outstanding 
 liabilities, Eugénie and Nanon sat on either side of the 
 hearth, in the parlour, now so empty and so full of memories ; 
 everything recalled past days, from her mother's chair set 
 on its wooden blocks to the glass tumbler out of which 
 her cousin once drank. 
 
 * Nanon, we are alone, you and I.' 
 
 ' Yes, mam'selle ; if I only knew where he was, the 
 charming young gentleman, I would set off on foot to 
 find him.' 
 
 ' The sea lies between us,' said Eugénie. 
 
 While the poor lonely heiress, with her faithful old 
 servant for company, was shedding tears in the cold, 
 dark house, which was all the world she knew, men
 
 Eugénie Grandet 201 
 
 talked from Orleans to Nantes of nothing but Mile. 
 Grandet and her seventeen millions. One of her first 
 acts was to settle a pension of twelve hundred francs on 
 Nanon, who, possessing already an income of six hundred 
 francs of her own, at once became a great match. In 
 less than a month she exchanged her condition of spinster 
 for that of wife, at the instance and through the persua- 
 sion of Antoine Cornoiller, who was promoted to the 
 position of bailiff and keeper to Mile. Grandet. Mme. 
 Cornoiller had an immense advantage over her contem- 
 poraries ; her large features had stood the test of time 
 better than those of many a comelier woman. She might 
 be fifty-nine years of age, but she did not look more than 
 forty ; thanks to an almost monastic regimen, she 
 possessed rude health and a high colour, time seemed to 
 have no effect on her, and perhaps she had never looked 
 so well in her life as she did on her wedding day. She 
 had the compensating qualities of her style of ugliness ; 
 she was tall, stout, and strong ; her face wore an inde- 
 structible expression of good humour, and Cornoiller's 
 lot seemed an enviable one to many beholders. 
 
 ' Fast colour,' said the draper. 
 
 ' She might have a family yet,' said the drysalter ; 
 ' she is as well preserved as if she had been kept in brine, 
 asking your pardon.' 
 
 ' She is rich ; that fellow Cornoiller has done a good 
 day's work,' said another neighbour. 
 
 When Nanon left the old house and went down the 
 crooked street on her way to the parish church, she met 
 with nothing but congratulations and good wishes. Nanon 
 was very popular with her neighbours. Eugénie gave 
 her three dozen spoons and forks as a wedding present. 
 Cornoiller, quite overcome with such munificence, spoke 
 of his mistress with tears in his eyes ; he would have let 
 himself be cut in pieces for her. Mme. Cornoiller 
 became Eugenie's confidential servant ; she was not only 
 married, and had a husband of her own, her dignity was
 
 102 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 yet further increased, her happiness was doubled. She 
 had at last a storeroom and a bunch of keys ; she too 
 gave out provisions just as her late master used to do. 
 Then she had tv^^o subordinates — a cook and a waiting- 
 woman, who took charge of the house linen and made 
 Mile. Grandet's dresses. As for Cornoiller, he combined 
 the functions of forester and steward. It is needless to 
 say that the cook and waiting-woman of Nanon's 
 choosing were real domestic treasures. The tenants 
 scarcely noticed the death of their late landlord ; they were 
 thoroughly broken in to a severe discipline, and M. and 
 Mme, Cornoiller's reign was no whit less rigorous than 
 that of the old régime. 
 
 Eugénie was a woman of thirty, and as yet had known 
 none of the happiness of life. All through her joyless, 
 monotonous childhood she had had but one companion, 
 the broken-spirited mother, whose sensitive nature had 
 found little but suffering in a hard life. That mother 
 had joyfully taken leave of existence, pitying the daughter 
 who must still live on in the world. Eugénie would 
 never lose the sense of her loss, but little of the bitter- 
 ness of self-reproach mingled with her memories of her 
 mother. 
 
 Love, her first and only love, had been a fresh source 
 of suffering for Eugénie. For a few brief days she had 
 seen her lover ; she had given her heart to him between 
 two stolen kisses ; then he had left her, and had set the lands 
 and seas of the world between them. Her father had 
 cursed her for this love ; it had nearly cost her her 
 mother's life ; it had brought her pain and sorrow and a 
 few faint hopes. She had striven towards her happiness 
 till her own forces had failed her, and another had not 
 come to her aid. 
 
 Our souls live by giving and receiving ; we have need 
 of another soul ; whatever it gives us we make our own, 
 and give back again in overflowing measure. This is as 
 vitally necessary for our inner life as breathing is for our 
 corporeal existence. Without that wonderful physical
 
 Eugénie Grandet 203 
 
 process we perish ; the heart suffers from lack of air, and 
 ceases to beat. Eugénie was beginning to suffer. 
 
 She found no solace in her wealth ; it could do nothing 
 for her ; her love, her religion, her faith in the future 
 made up all her life. Love was teaching her what 
 eternity meant. Her own heart and the Gospel each 
 spoke to her of a life to come ; life was everlasting, and 
 love no less eternal. Night and day she dwelt with these 
 two infinite thoughts, perhaps for her they were but one. 
 She withdrew more and more into herself; she loved, and 
 believed that she was loved. 
 
 For seven years her passion had wholly engrossed her. 
 
 Her treasures were not those millions left to her by her 
 father, the money that went on accumulating year after 
 year ; but the two portraits which hung above her bed, 
 Charles's leather case, the jewels which she had bought 
 back from her father, and which were now proudly set 
 forth on a layer of cotton wool inside the drawer in the 
 old chest, and her aunt's thimble which Mme. Grandet 
 had used ; every day Eugénie took up a piece of em- 
 broidery, a sort of Penelope's web, which she had only 
 begun that she might wear the golden thimble, endeared 
 to her by so many memories. 
 
 It seemed hardly probable that Mile. Grandet would 
 marry while she still wore mourning. Her sincere piety 
 was well known. So the Cruchot family, counselled by 
 the astute old Abbé, was fain to be content with sur- 
 rounding the heiress with the most affectionate attentions. 
 Her dining-room was filled every evening with the 
 warmest and most devoted Cruchotins, who endeavoured 
 to surpass each other in singing the praises of the mistress 
 of the house in every key. She had her physician-in- 
 ordinary, her grand almoner, her chamberlain, her mistress 
 of the robes, her prime minister, and last, but by no 
 means least, her chancellor — a chancellor whose aim it 
 was to keep her informed of everything. If the heiress 
 had expressed any wish for a train-bearer, they would 
 have found one for her. She was a queen in fact, and
 
 204 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 never was queen so adroitly flattered. A great soul never 
 stoops to flattery; it is the resource of little natures, who 
 succeed in making themselves smaller still, that they may 
 the better creep into the hearts of those about whom they 
 circle. Flattery, by its very nature, implies an interested 
 motive. So the people who filled Mile. Grandet's sitting- 
 room every evening (they addressed her and spoke of her 
 among themselves as Mile, de Froidfond now) heaped 
 their praises upon their hostess in a manner truly mar- 
 vellous. This chorus of praise embarrassed Eugénie at 
 first ; but however gross the flattery might be, she became 
 accustomed to hear her beauty extolled, and if some new- 
 comer had considered her to be plain, she certainly would 
 have winced more under the criticism than she might 
 have done eight years ago. She came at last to welcome 
 their homage, which in her secret heart she laid at the 
 feet of her idol. So also, by degrees, she accepted the 
 position, and allowed herself to be treated as a queen, and 
 saw her little court full every evening. 
 
 M. le Président de Bonfons was the hero of the circle; 
 they lauded his talents, his personal appearance, his 
 learning, his amiability; he was an inexhaustible subject 
 of admiring comment. Such an one would call atten- 
 tion to the fact that in seven years the magistrate had 
 largely increased his fortune ; Bonfons had at least ten 
 thousand francs a year; and his property, like the lands of 
 all the Cruchots in fact, lay within the compass of the 
 heiress's vast estates. 
 
 ' Do you know, mademoiselle,' another courtier would 
 remark, ' that the Cruchots have forty thousand livres a 
 year among them ! ' 
 
 ' And they are putting money by,' said Mile, de 
 Gribeaucourt, an old and trusty Cruchotine. ' Quite 
 lately a gentleman came from Paris on purpose to offer 
 M. Cruchot two hundred thousand francs for his pro- 
 fessional connection. If he could gain an appointment 
 as justice of the peace, he ought to take the off^er.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 205 
 
 * He means to succeed M. de Bonfons as President, 
 and is taking steps to that end,' said Mme. d'Orsonval, 
 ' for M, le Président will be a Councillor, and then a 
 President of a Court ; he is so gifted that he is sure to 
 succeed.' 
 
 ' Yes,' said another, ' he is a very remarkable man. 
 Do you not think so, mademoiselle ? ' 
 
 ' M. le Président' had striven to act up to the part he 
 wanted to play. He was forty years old, his countenance 
 was dark and ill-favoured, he had, moreover, the wizened 
 look which is frequently seen in men of his profession ; 
 but he affected the airs of youth, sported a malacca cane, 
 refrained from taking snufF in Mile. Grandet's house, and 
 went thither arrayed in a white cravat and a shirt with 
 huge frills, which gave him a quaint family resemblance 
 to a turkey-gobbler. He called the fair heiress 'our dear 
 Eugénie,' and spoke as if he were an intimate friend of 
 the family. In fact, but for the number of those assembled, 
 and the substitution of whist for loto, and the absence of 
 M. and Mme. Grandet, the scene was scarcely changed ; 
 it might almost have been that first evening on which 
 this story began. 
 
 The pack was still in pursuit of Eugenie's millions ; it 
 was a more numerous pack now ; they gave tongue 
 together, and hunted down their prey more systematically. 
 
 If Charles had come back from the far-off Indies, he 
 would have found the same motives at work and almost 
 the same people. Mme. des Grassins, for whom Eugénie 
 had nothing but kindness and pity, still remained to vex 
 the Cruchots. Eugenie's face still shone out against the 
 dark background, and Charles (though invisible) reigned 
 there supreme as in other days. 
 
 Yet some advance had been made. Eugenie's birthday 
 bouquet was never forgotten by the magistrate. Indeed, 
 it had become an institution ; every evening he brought 
 the heiress a huge and wonderful bouquet. Mme. 
 Cornoiller ostentatiously placed these offerings in a vase,
 
 2o6 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 and promptly flung them into a corner of the yard as 
 soon as the visitors had departed. 
 
 In the early spring Mme. des Grassins made a move, 
 and sought to trouble the felicity of the Cruchotins by 
 talking to Eugénie of the Marquis de Froidfond, v/hose 
 ruined fortunes might be retrieved if the heiress would 
 return his estate to him by a marriage contract. Mme. 
 des Grassins lauded the Marquis and his title to the 
 skies ; and, taking Eugenie's quiet smile for consent, she 
 went about saying that M. le Président Cruchot's 
 marriage was not such a settled thing as some people 
 imagined. 
 
 ' M. de Froidfond may be fifty years old,' she said, 
 ' but he looks no older than M. Cruchot ; he is a 
 widower, and has a family, it is true ; but he is a 
 marquis, he will be a peer of France one of these days, 
 it is not such a bad match as times go. I know of my 
 own certain knowledge that when old Grandet added 
 his own property to the Froidfond estate he meant to 
 graft his family into the Froidfonds. He often told 
 me as much. Oh ! he was a shrewd old man, was 
 Grandet.' 
 
 ' Ah ! Nanon,' Eugénie said one evening, as she went 
 to bed, 'why has he not once written to me in seven 
 years ? ' . . . 
 
 While these events were taking place in Saumur, 
 Charles was making his fortune in the East. His first 
 venture was very successful. He had promptly realised 
 the sum of six thousand dollars. Crossing the line had 
 cured him of many early prejudices ; he soon saw very 
 clearly that the best and quickest way of making money 
 was the same in the tropics as in Europe — by buying and 
 selling men. He made a descent on the African coasts 
 and bargained for negroes and other goods in demand in 
 various markets. He threw himself heart and soul into 
 his business, and thought of nothing else. He set one
 
 Eugénie Grandet 207 
 
 clear aim before him, to reappear in Paris, and to dazzle 
 the world there with his wealth, to attain a position 
 even higher than the one from which he had fallen. 
 
 By dint of rubbing shoulders with many men, travel- 
 ling in many lands, coming in contact with various 
 customs and religions, his code had been relaxed, and 
 he had grown sceptical. His notions of right and 
 wrong became less rigid when he found that what was 
 looked upon as a crime in one country was held up to 
 admiration in another. He saw that every one was 
 working for himself, that disinterestedness was rarely to 
 be met with, and grew selfish and suspicious ; the 
 hereditary failings of the Grandets came out in him — the 
 hardness, the shiftiness, and the greed of gain. He sold 
 Chinese coolies, negro slaves, swallow-nests, children, 
 artists, anything and everything that brought in money. 
 He became a money lender on a large scale. Long 
 practice in cheating the customs authorities had made 
 him unscrupulous in other ways. He would make the 
 voyage to St. Thomas, buy booty of the pirates there for 
 a low price, and sell the merchandise in the dearest 
 market. 
 
 During his first voyage Eugenie's pure and noble 
 face had been with him, like the image of the Virgin 
 which Spanish sailors set on the prows of their vessels ; 
 he had attributed his first success to a kind of magical 
 efficacy possessed by her prayers and vows ; but as time 
 went on, the women of other countries, négresses, 
 mulattoes, white skins, and yellow skins, orgies and 
 adventures in many lands, completely effaced all recollec- 
 tion of his cousin, of Saumur, of the old house, of 
 the bench, and of the kiss that he had snatched in the 
 passage. He remembered nothing but the little garden 
 shut in by its crumbling walls where he had learned the 
 fate that lay in store for him ; but he rejected all connec- 
 tion with the family. His uncle was an old fox who had 
 filched his jewels. Eugénie had no place in his heart,
 
 2o8 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 he never gave her a thought ; but she occupied a page in 
 his ledger as a creditor for six thousand francs. 
 
 Such conduct and such ideas explained Charles 
 Grandet's silence. In the East Indies, at St. Thomas, 
 on the coast of Africa, at Lisbon, in the United States, 
 Charles Grandet the adventurer was know^n as Carl 
 Sepherd, a pseudonym v^^hich he assumed so as not to 
 compromise his real name. Carl Sepherd could be 
 indefatigable, brazen, and greedy of gain j could conduct 
 himself, in short, like a man who resolves to make a 
 fortune quibuscumque viis, and makes haste to have done 
 with villainy as soon as possible, in order to live respected 
 for the rest of his days. 
 
 With such methods his career of prosperity was rapid 
 and brilliant, and in 1827 he returned to Bordeaux on 
 board the Marie Caroline^ a fine brig belonging to a 
 Royalist firm. He had nineteen hundred thousand francs 
 with him in gold dust, carefully secreted in three strong 
 casks ; he hoped to sell it to the Paris mint, and to make 
 eight per cent, on the transaction. There was also on 
 board the brig a gentleman-in-ordinary to his Majesty 
 Charles x., a M. d'Aubrion, a worthy old man who had 
 been rash enough to marry a woman of fashion whose 
 money came from estates in the West India Islands. 
 Mme. d'Aubrion's reckless extravagance had obliged 
 him to go out to the Indies to sell her property. 
 M. and Mme. d'Aubrion, of the house of d'Aubrion 
 de Buch, which had lost its captai or chieftain 
 just before the Revolution, were now in straitened cir- 
 cumstances. They had a bare twenty thousand francs 
 of income and a daughter, a very plain girl, whom her 
 mother made up her mind to marry without a dowry ; 
 for life in Paris is expensive, and, as has been seen, their 
 means were reduced. It was an enterprise the success 
 of which might have seemed somewhat problematical to a 
 man of the world, in spite of the cleverness with which 
 a woman of fashion is generally credited. Perhaps even
 
 Eugénie Grandet 209 
 
 Mme. d'Aubrion herself, when she looked at her daughter, 
 was almost ready to despair of getting rid of her to any one, 
 even to the most besotted worshipper of rank and titles. 
 
 Mile. d'Aubrion was a tall, spare demoiselle, somewhat 
 like her namesake the insect ; she had a disdainful mouth, 
 overshadowed by a long nose, thick at the tip, sallow in 
 its normal condition, but very red after a meal, an organic 
 change which was all the more unpleasant by reason of 
 contrast with a pallid, insipid countenance. From some 
 points of view she was all that a worldly mother, who 
 was thirty-eight years of age, and had still some preten- 
 sions to beauty, could desire. But by way of compensat- 
 ing advantages, the Marquise d'Aubrion's distinguished 
 air had been inherited by her daughter, and that young 
 lady had been submitted to a Spartan regimen, which for 
 the time being subdued the offending hue in her feature 
 to a reasonable flesh-tint. Her mother had taught her 
 how to dress herself. Under the same instructor she had 
 acquired a charming manner, and had learned to assume 
 that pensive expression which interests a man and leads 
 him to imagine that here, surely, is the angel for whom 
 he has hitherto sought in vain. She was carefully 
 drilled in a certain manoeuvre with her foot — to let it peep 
 forth from beneath her petticoat, and so call attention to 
 its small size — whenever her nose became unseasonably 
 red ; indeed, the mother had made the very best of her 
 daughter. By means of large sleeves, stiff skirts, puffs, 
 padding, and high pressure corsets she had produced a 
 highly curious and interesting result, a specimen of 
 femininity which ought to have been put into a museum 
 for the edification of mothers generally. 
 
 Charles became very intimate with Mme. d'Aubrion ; 
 the lady had her own reasons for encouraging him. 
 People said that during the time on board she left no 
 stone unturned to secure such a prize for a son-in-law. 
 It is at any rate certain that when they landed at 
 Bordeaux Charles stayed in the same hotel with M., 
 
 o
 
 2IO Eugénie Grandet 
 
 Mme., and Mlle. d'Aubrioii, and they all travelled 
 together to Paris. The hôtel d'Aubrion was hampered 
 with mortgages, and Charles was intended to come to 
 the rescue. The mother had gone so far as to say that 
 it would give her great pleasure to establish a son-in-law 
 on the ground floor. She did not share M. d'Aubrion's 
 aristocratic prejudices, and promised Charles Grandet to 
 obtain letters patent from that easy-tempered monarch, 
 Charles x., which should authorise him, Grandet, to 
 bear the name and assume the arms of the d'Aubrions, 
 and (by purchasing the entail) to succeed to the pro- 
 perty of Aubrion, which was worth about thirty-six 
 thousand livres a year, to say nothing of the titles of 
 Captai de Buch and Marquis d'Aubrion. They could 
 be very useful to each other in short ; and what with this 
 arrangement of a joint establishment, and one or two 
 posts about the court, the hôtel d'Aubrion might count 
 upon an income of a hundred thousand francs and more. 
 
 ' And when a man has a hundred thousand francs a 
 year, a name, a family, and a position at Court — for I 
 shall procure an appointment for you as gentleman of the 
 bedchamber — the rest is easy. You can be anything you 
 choose' (so she instructed Charles), 'Master of Requests 
 in the Council of State, Prefect, Secretary to an Embassy, 
 the Ambassador himself if you like. Charles x. is much 
 attached to d'Aubrion ; they have known each other from 
 childhood.' 
 
 She fairly turned his head with these ambitious schemes, 
 and during the voyage Charles began to cherish the 
 hopes and ideas which had been so cleverly insinuated 
 in the form of tender confidences. He never doubted 
 but that his uncle had paid his father's creditors ; he had 
 been suddenly launched into the society of the Faubourg 
 St. Germain, at that time the goal of social ambition ; 
 and beneath the shadow of Mile. Mathilde's purple nose, 
 he was shortly to appear as the Comte d'Aubrion, very 
 much as the Dreux shone forth transformed into Brézés.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 211 
 
 He was dazzled by the apparent prosperity of the 
 restored dynasty, which had seemed to be tottering to 
 its fall when he left France ; his head was full of wild 
 ambitious dreams, which began on the voyage, and did 
 not leave him in Paris. He resolved to strain every nerve 
 to reach those pinnacles of glory which his egotistical 
 would-be mother-in-law had pointed out to him. His 
 cousin was only a dim speck in the remote past ; she had 
 no place in this brilliant future, no part in his dreams, 
 but he went to see Annette. That experienced woman 
 of the world gave counsel to her old friend ; he must by 
 no means let slip such an opportunity for an alliance ; she 
 promised to aid him in all his schemes of advancement. 
 In her heart she was delighted to see Charles thus secured 
 to such a plain and uninteresting girl. He had grown 
 very attractive during his stay in the Indies ; his com- 
 plexion had grown darker, he had gained in manliness 
 and self-possession ; he spoke in the firm, decided tones 
 of a man who is used to command and to success. Ever 
 since Charles Grandet had discovered that there was a 
 definite part for him to play in Paris, he was himself at 
 once. 
 
 Des Grassins, hearing of his return, his approaching 
 marriage, and his large fortune, came to see him, and 
 spoke of the three hundred thousand francs still owing to 
 his father's creditors. He found Charles closeted with a 
 goldsmith, from whom he had ordered jewels for Mile. 
 d'Aubrion's corbeille^ and who was submitting designs. 
 Charles himself had brought magnificent diamonds from 
 the Indies ; but the cost of setting them, together with 
 the silver plate and jewellery of the new establishment, 
 amounted to more than two hundred thousand francs. 
 He did not recognise des Grassins at first, and treated 
 him with the cool insolence of a young man of fashion 
 who is conscious that he has killed four men in as many 
 duels in the Indies. As M. des Grassins had already 
 called three or four times, Charles vouchsafed to hear
 
 212 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 him, but it was with bare politeness, and he did not pay 
 the sHghtest attention to what the banker said. 
 
 ' My father's debts are not mine,' he said coolly. ' I 
 am obliged to you, sir, for the trouble you have been 
 good enough to take, but I am none the better for it 
 that I can see. I have not scraped together a couple of 
 millions, earned with the sweat of my brow, to fling it 
 to my father's creditors.' 
 
 ' But suppose that your father were to be declared 
 bankrupt in a few days' time ? ' 
 
 'In a few days' time I shall be the Comte d'Aubrion, 
 sir ; so you can see that it is a matter of entire indiffer- 
 ence to me. Besides, you know even better than I do 
 that when a man has a hundred thousand livres a year, 
 his father never has been a bankrupt,' and he politely 
 edged the deputy des Grassins to the door. 
 
 In the early days of the month of August, in that same 
 year, Eugénie was sitting on the little bench in the 
 garden where her cousin had sworn eternal love, and 
 where she often took breakfast in summer mornings. 
 The poor girl was almost happy for a few brief moments; 
 she went over all the great and little events of her love 
 before those catastrophes that followed. The morning 
 was fresh and bright, and the garden was full of sunlight ; 
 her eyes wandered over the wall with its moss and flowers ; 
 it was full of cracks now, and all but in ruins, but no one 
 was allowed to touch it, though Cornoiller was always 
 prophesying to his wife that the whole thing would come 
 down and crush somebody or other one of these days. 
 The postman knocked at the door, and gave a letter into 
 the hands of Mme. Cornoiller, who hurried into the 
 garden, crying, 'Mademoiselle! A letter! Is it the 
 letter ? ' she added, as she handed it to her mistress. 
 
 The words rang through Eugenie's heart as the spoken 
 sounds rang from the ramparts and the old garden 
 wall.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 213 
 
 ' Paris ! . . . It is his writing ! Then he has come 
 back.' 
 
 Eugenie's face grew white ; for several seconds she kept 
 the seal unbroken, for her heart beat so fast that she 
 could neither move nor see. Big Nanon stood and 
 waited with both hands on her hips ; joy seemed to 
 pufF like smoke from every wrinkle in her brown 
 face. 
 
 ' Do read it, mademoiselle ! ' 
 
 ' Oh ! why does he come back by way of Paris, Nanon, 
 when he went by way of Saumur ? ' 
 
 ' Read it ; the letter will tell you why.' 
 
 Eugenie's fingers trembled as she opened the envelope ; 
 a cheque on the firm of ' Mme. des Grassins et Corret, 
 Saumur,' fell out of it and fluttered down. Nanon picked 
 it up. 
 
 'My dear Cousin . . .' 
 
 (' I am not " Eugénie " now,' she thought, and her 
 heart stood still.) 'You . . .' 
 
 ' He used to say thou ! ' She folded her arms and 
 dreaded to read any further ; great tears gathered in her 
 eyes. 
 
 ' What is it ? Is he dead ? ' asked Nanon. 
 
 ' If he were, he could not write,' said Eugénie, and 
 she read the letter through. It ran as follows : — 
 
 ' My dear Cousin, — You will, I am sure, hear with 
 pleasure of the success of my enterprise. You brought 
 me luck ; I have come back to France a wealthy man, 
 as my uncle advised. I have just heard of his death, 
 together with that of my aunt, from M. des Grassins. 
 Our parents must die in the course of nature, and we 
 ourselves must follow them. I hope that by this time 
 you are consoled for your loss ; time cures all trouble, as 
 I know by experience. Yes, my dear cousin, the day of 
 illusions is gone by for me. I am sorry, but it cannot
 
 214 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 be helped. I have knocked about the world so much, 
 and seen so much, that I have been led to reflect on 
 life. I was a child when I went away ; I have come 
 back a man, and I have many things to think about now 
 which I did not even dream of then. You are free, my 
 cousin, and I too am free still ; there is apparently 
 nothing to hinder the realisation of our youthful hopes, 
 but I am too straightforward to hide my present situation 
 from you. I have not for a moment forgotten that I am 
 bound to you ; through all my wanderings I have always 
 remembered the little wooden bench ' 
 
 Eugénie started up as if she were sitting on burning 
 coals, and sat down on one of the broken stone steps in 
 the yard. 
 
 — ' the little wooden bench where we vowed to love each 
 other for ever ; the passage, the grey parlour, my attic 
 room, the night when in your thoughtfulness and tact 
 you made my future easier to me. Yes, these memories 
 have been my support ; I have said in my heart that you 
 were always thinking of me when I thought of you at the 
 hour we had agreed upon. Did you not look out into 
 the darkness at nine o'clock ? Yes, I am sure you did. 
 I would not prove false to so sacred a friendship; I cannot 
 deal insincerely with you. 
 
 ' A marriage has been proposed to me, which is in 
 every way satisfactory to my mind. Love in a marriage 
 is romantic nonsense. Experience has clearly shown me 
 that in marrying we must obey social laws and conform 
 to conventional ideas. There is some difference of age 
 between you and me, which would perhaps be more 
 likely to affect your future than mine, and there are 
 other differences of which I need not speak ; your 
 bringing up, your ways of life, and your tastes have 
 not fitted you for Parisian life, nor would they harmonise 
 with the future which I have marked out for myself.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 215 
 
 For instance, it is a part of my plan to maintain a great 
 household, and to see a good deal of society ; and you, 
 I am sure, from my recollections of you, would prefer a 
 quiet, domestic life and home-keeping ways. No, I will 
 be open with you ; I will abide by your decision ; but 
 I must first, however, lay all the facts of the case before 
 you, that you may the better judge. 
 
 ' I possess at the time of writing an income of eighty 
 thousand livres. With this fortune I am able to marry 
 into the d'Aubrion family ; I should take their name on 
 my marriage with their only daughter, a girl of nineteen, 
 and secure at the same time a very brilliant position in 
 society, and the post of gentleman-of-the-bedchamber. I 
 will assure you at once, my dear cousin, that I have not 
 the slightest affection for Mile. d'Aubrion, but by this 
 marriage I shall secure for my children a social rank 
 which will be of inestimable value in the future. Mon- 
 archical principles are daily gaining ground. A few years 
 hence my son, the Marquis d'Aubrion, would have an 
 entailed estate and a yearly rental of forty thousand 
 livres ; with such advantages there would be no position 
 to which he might not aspire. We ought to live for 
 our children. 
 
 ' You see, my cousin, how candidly I am laying the state 
 of my heart, my hopes, and my fortunes before you. 
 Perhaps after seven years of separation you may yourself 
 have forgotten our childish love affair, but I have never 
 forgotten your goodness or my promise. A less con- 
 scientious, a less upright man, with a heart less youthful 
 than mine, might scarcely feel himself bound by it ; but 
 for me a promise, however lightly given, is sacred. 
 When I tell you plainly that my marriage is solely a 
 marriage of suitability, and that I have not forgotten the 
 love of our youthful days, am I not putting myself entirely 
 into your hands, and making you the arbitress of my 
 fate ? Is it not implied that if I must renounce my 
 social ambitions, I shall willingly content myself with
 
 21 6 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 the simple and pure happiness which is always called up 
 by the thought of you . . . 
 
 ' Tra-la-la-tan-ta-ti ! ' sang Charles Grandet to the air 
 of Non più andrai^ as he signed himself, 
 
 Your devoted cousin, 
 
 Charles. 
 
 ' By Jove ! that is acting handsomely,' he said to 
 himself. He looked about him for the cheque, slipped 
 it in, and added a postscript. 
 
 ^P.S. — I enclose a cheque on Mme. des Grassins for 
 eight thousand francs, payable in gold to your order, 
 comprising the capital and interest of the sum you were 
 so kind as to advance me. I am expecting a case from 
 Bordeaux which contains a few things which you must 
 allow me to send you as a token of my unceasing 
 gratitude. You can send my dressing-case by the 
 diligence to the Hôtel d'Aubrion, Rue Hillerin-Bertin.' 
 
 ' By the diligence ! ' cried Eugénie, ' when I would 
 have given my life for it a thousand times ! ' 
 
 Terrible and complete shipwreck of hope ; the vessel 
 had gone down, there was not a spar, not a plank in the 
 vast ocean. There are women who when their lover 
 forsakes them will drag him from a rival's arms and 
 murder her, and fly for refuge to the ends of the earth, 
 to the scaffold, or the grave. There is a certain 
 grandeur in this no doubt ; there is something so sub- 
 lime in the passion of indignation which prompts the 
 crime, that man's justice is awed into silence ; but there 
 are other women who suffer and bow their heads. 
 They go on their way, submissive and broken-hearted, 
 weeping and forgiving, praying till their last sigh for him 
 whom they never forget. And this no less is love, love 
 such as the angels know, loves that bears itself proudly
 
 Eugénie Grandet 217 
 
 in anguish, that lives by the secret pain of which it 
 dies at last. This was to be Eugenie's love now that 
 she had read that horrible letter. 
 
 She raised her eyes to the sky and thought of her 
 mother's prophetic words, uttered in the moment of clear 
 vision that is sometimes given to dying eyes ; and as she 
 thought of her mother's life and death, it seemed to her 
 that she was looking out over her own future. There 
 was nothing left to her now but to live prayerfully till the 
 day of her deliverance should come and the soul spread 
 its wings for heaven. 
 
 ' My mother was right,' she said, weeping. ' Suffer — 
 and die.' 
 
 She went slowly from the garden into the house, 
 avoiding the passage ; but when she came into the old 
 grey parlour, it was full of memories of her cousin. On 
 the chimney-piece there stood a certain china saucer, 
 which she used every morning, and the old Sèvres sugar 
 basin. 
 
 It was to be a memorable and eventful day for Eugénie. 
 Nanon announced the curé of the parish church. He 
 was related to the Cruchots, and therefore in the 
 interests of the President de Bonfons. For some days 
 past the Abbé had urged the curé to speak seriously 
 to Mile. Grandet about the duty of marriage from a 
 religious point of view for a woman in her position. 
 Eugénie, seeing her pastor, fancied that he had come 
 for the thousand francs which she gave him every month 
 for the poor of his parish, and sent Nanon for the 
 money ; but the curate began with a smile, ' To-day, 
 mademoiselle, I have come to take counsel with you 
 about a poor girl in whom all Saumur takes an interest, 
 and who, through lack of charity to herself, is not living 
 as a Christian should.' 
 
 ^ Mon Dieu! M. le Curé, just now I can think of 
 nobody but myself. I am very miserable, my only 
 refuge is in the Church ; her heart is large enough to
 
 2i8 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 hold all human sorrows, her love so inexhaustible that we 
 need never fear to drain it dry.' 
 
 ' Well, mademoiselle, when we speak of this girl, we 
 shall speak of you. Listen ! If you would fain work 
 out your salvation, there are but two ways open to you ; 
 you must either leave the world, or live in the world and 
 submit to its laws — you must choose between the earthly 
 and the heavenly vocation.' 
 
 ' Ah ! your voice speaks to me when I need to hear a 
 voice. Yes, God has sent you to me. I will bid the world 
 farewell, and live for God alone, in silence and seclusion.' 
 
 ' But, my daughter, you should think long and prayer- 
 fully before taking so strong a measure. Marriage is life, 
 the veil and the convent is death.' 
 
 ' Yes, death. Ah ! if death would only come quickly, 
 M. le Curé,' she said, with dreadful eagerness. 
 
 ' Death ? But you have great obligations to fulfil 
 towards society, mademoiselle. There is your family of 
 poor, to whom you give clothes and firing in winter and 
 work in summer. Your great fortune is a loan, of 
 which you must give account one day. You have 
 always looked on it as a sacred trust. It would be selfish 
 to bury yourself in a convent, and you ought not to live 
 alone in the world. In the first place, how can you 
 endure the burden of your vast fortune alone ? You 
 might lose it. You will be involved in endless litigation ; 
 you will find yourself in difficulties from which you will 
 not be able to extricate yourself. Take your pastor's 
 word, a husband is useful j you ought not to lose what 
 God has given into your charge. I speak to you as to a 
 cherished lamb of my flock. You love God too sincerely 
 to find hindrances to your salvation in the world j you 
 are one of its fairest ornaments, and should remain in it 
 as an example of holiness.' 
 
 At this point Mme. des Grassins was announced. 
 The banker's wife was smarting under a grievous dis- 
 appointment, and thirsted for revenge.
 
 Eugénie Grandet 219 
 
 ' Mademoiselle . . .' she began. ' Oh ! M. le Curé is 
 here. ... I will say no more then. I came to speak 
 about some matters of business, but I see you are deep in 
 something else.' 
 
 ' Madame,' said the curé, ' I leave the field to you.' 
 
 ' Oh ! M. le Curé, pray come back again ; I stand in 
 great need of your help just now.' 
 
 ' Yes, indeed, my poor child ! ' said Mme. des Grassins. 
 
 ' What do you mean ? ' asked Eugénie and the curé 
 both together. 
 
 ' Do you suppose that I haven't heard that your cousin 
 has come back, and is going to marry Mile. d'Aubrion ? 
 A woman doesn't go about with her wits in her pocket.' 
 
 Eugénie was silent, there was a red flush on her face, 
 but she made up her mind at once that henceforward no 
 one should learn anything from her, and looked as im- 
 penetrable as her father used to do. 
 
 ' Well, madame,' she said, with a tinge of bitter- 
 ness in her tones, ' it seems that I, at any rate, carry 
 my wits in my pocket, for I am quite at a loss to under- 
 stand you. Speak out and explain yourself; you can 
 speak freely before M. le Curé, he is my director, as 
 you know,' 
 
 ' Well, then, mademoiselle, see for yourself what des 
 Grassins says. Here is the letter.' 
 
 Eugénie read : — 
 
 ' My dear Wife, — Charles Grandet has returned from 
 the Indies, and has been in Paris these two months- — ■ — ^ 
 
 ' Two months ! ' said Eugénie to herself, and her hand 
 fell to her side. After a moment she went on reading : — 
 
 ' I had to dance attendance on him, and called twice 
 before the future Comte d'Aubrion would condescend to 
 see me. All Paris is talking about his marriage, and the 
 banns are published '
 
 220 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' And he wrote to me after that ? ' Eugénie said to 
 herself. She did not round off the sentence as a Parisienne 
 would have done, with ' Wretch that he is ! ' but her 
 scorn was not one whit the less because it was unexpressed. 
 
 — ' but it will be a good while yet before he marries ; it 
 is not likely that the Marquis d'Aubrion will give his 
 daughter to the son of a bankrupt wine merchant. I 
 called and told him of all the trouble we had been at, 
 his uncle and I, in the matter of his father's failure, and 
 of our clever dodges that had kept the creditors quiet so 
 far. The insolent puppy had the effrontery to say to 
 me — to me^ who for five years have toiled day and night 
 in his interest and to save his credit — that his father's 
 affairs were not his ! A solicitor would have wanted 
 thirty or forty thousand francs of him in fees at the rate 
 of one per cent, on the total of the debt ! But, patience! 
 There is something that he does owe, however, and that 
 the law shall make him pay, that is to say, twelve hundred 
 thousand francs to his father's creditors, and I shall declare 
 his father bankrupt. I mixed myself up in this affair on 
 the word of that old crocodile of a Grandet, and I have 
 given promises in the name of the family. M. le Comte 
 d'Aubrion may not care for his honour, but I care a good 
 deal for mine ! So I shall just explain my position to 
 the creditors. Still, I have too much respect for Mile. 
 Eugénie (with whom, in happier days, we hoped to be 
 more closely connected) to take any steps before you 
 have spoken to her ' 
 
 There Eugénie paused, and quietly returned the letter. 
 
 ' I am obliged to you,' she said to Mme. des Grassins. 
 ^ We shall see ' 
 
 ' Your voice was exactly like your father's just then,' 
 exclaimed Mme. des Grassins. 
 
 ' Madame,' put in Nanon, producing Charles's cheque, 
 ' you have eight thousand francs to pay us.'
 
 Eugénie Grandet 221 
 
 ' True. Be so good as to corne with me, Mme. 
 Cornoiller.' 
 
 ' M. le Curé,' said Eugénie, with a noble composure 
 that came of the thought which prompted her, ' would it 
 be a sin to remain in a state of virginity after marriage ? ' 
 
 ' It is a case of conscience which I cannot solve. If 
 you care to know what the celebrated Sanchez says in his 
 great work, D e Matrimonio^ I could inform you to-morrow.' 
 
 The curé took leave. Mile. Grandet went up to her 
 father's room and spent the day there by herself; she 
 would not even come down to dinner, though Nanon 
 begged and scolded. She appeared in the evening at the 
 hour when the usual company began to arrive. The 
 grey parlour in the Grandet's house had never been so 
 well filled as it was that night. Every soul in the town 
 knew by that time of Charles's return, and of his faith- 
 lessness and ingratitude ; but their inquisitive curiosity 
 was not to be gratified. Eugénie was a little late, but 
 no one saw any traces of the cruel agitation through 
 which she had passed ; she could smile benignly in reply 
 to the compassionate looks and words which some of the 
 group thought fit to bestow on her ; she bore her pain 
 behind a mask of politeness. 
 
 About nine o'clock the card-players drew away from 
 the tables, paid their losses, and criticised the game and 
 the various points that had been made. Just as there was 
 a general move in the direction of the door, an unex- 
 pected development took place ; the news of it rang 
 through Saumur and four prefectures round about for 
 days after. 
 
 ' Please stay, M. le Président.' 
 
 There was not a person in the room who did not thrill 
 with excitement at the words ; M. de Bonfons, who was 
 about to take his cane, turned quite white, and sat down 
 again. 
 
 ' The President takes the millions,' said Mile, de 
 Gribeaucourt.
 
 2 22 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 ' It is quite clear that President de Bonfons is going to 
 marry Mile. Grandet,' cried Mine. d'Orsonval. 
 
 ' The best trick of the game ! ' commented the Abbé. 
 
 ' A very pretty slam^ said the notary. 
 
 Every one said his say and cut his joke, every one 
 thought of the heiress mounted upon her millions as if 
 she were on a pedestal. Here v^^as the catastrophe of the 
 drama, begun nine years ago, taking place under their 
 eyes. To tell the President in the face of all Saumur to 
 ' stay ' was as good as announcing at once that she meant 
 to take the magistrate for her husband. Social con- 
 ventionalities are rigidly observed in little country towns, 
 and such an infraction as this was looked upon as a 
 binding promise. 
 
 ' M. le Président,' Eugénie began in an unsteady 
 voice, as soon as they were alone, ' I know what you care 
 about in me. Swear to leave me free till the end of my 
 life, to claim none of the rights which marriage will give 
 you over me, and my hand is yours. Oh ! ' she said, 
 seeing him about to fall on his knees, ' I have not finished 
 yet. I must tell you frankly that there are memories in 
 my heart which can never be effaced ; that friendship is 
 all that I can give my husband ; I wish neither to 
 affront him nor to be disloyal to my own heart. But 
 you shall only have my hand and fortune at the price of 
 an immense service which I want you to do me.' 
 
 ' Anything, I will do anything,' said the president. 
 
 ' Here are fifteen hundred thousand francs, M. le 
 Président,' she said, drawing from her bodice a certificate 
 for a hundred shares in the Bank of France ; ' will you set 
 out for Paris ? You must not even wait till the morning, 
 but go at once, to-night. You must go straight to M. 
 des Grassins, ask him for a list of my uncle's creditors, 
 call them together, and discharge all outstanding claims 
 upon Guillaume Grandet's estate. Let the creditors have 
 capital and interest at five per cent, from the day the 
 debts were contracted to the present time ; and see that
 
 Eugénie Grandet 223 
 
 in every case a receipt in full is given, and that it is 
 made out in proper form. You are a magistrate, you are 
 the only person whom I feel that I can trust in such a 
 case. You are a gentleman and a man of honour ; you 
 have given me your word, and, protected by your name, 
 I will make the perilous voyage of life. We shall know 
 how to make allowances for each other, for we have been 
 acquainted for so long that it is almost as if we were 
 related, and I am sure you would not wish to make me 
 unhappy.' 
 
 The president fell on his knees at the feet of the rich 
 heiress in a paroxysm of joy. 
 
 ' I will be your slave ! ' he said. 
 
 'When all the receipts are in your possession, sir,' she 
 went on, looking quietly at him, 'you must take them, 
 together with the bills, to my cousin Grandet, and give 
 them to him with this letter. When you come back, I 
 will keep my word.' 
 
 The president understood the state of affairs perfectly 
 well. 'She is accepting me out of pique,' he thought, 
 and he hastened to do Mile. Grandet's bidding with all 
 possible speed, for fear some chance might bring about a 
 reconciliation between the lovers. 
 
 As soon as M. de Bonfons left her, Eugénie sank into 
 her chair and burst into tears. All was over, and this 
 was the end. 
 
 The president travelled post to Paris and reached his 
 journey's end on the following evening. The next 
 morning he went to des Grassins, and arranged for a 
 meeting of the creditors in the office of the notary with 
 whom the bills had been deposited. Every man of them 
 appeared, every man of them was punctual to a moment 
 — one should give even creditors their dues. 
 
 M. de Bonfons, in Mile. Grandet's name, paid down 
 the money in full, both capital and interest. They were 
 paid interest ! It was an amazing portent, a nine days' 
 wonder in the business world of Paris. After the whole
 
 224 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 affair had been wound up, and when, by Eugenie's desire, 
 des Grassins had received fifty thousand francs for 
 his services, the president betook himself to the Hôtel 
 d'Aubrion, and was lucky enough to find Charles at home, 
 and in disgrace with his future father-in-law. The old 
 Marquis had just informed that gentleman that until 
 Guillaume Grandet's creditors were satisfied, a marriage 
 with his daughter was not to be thought of. 
 
 To Charles, thus despondent, the president delivered 
 the following letter : — 
 
 ' Dear Cousin, — M. le Président de Bonfons has 
 undertaken to hand you a discharge of all claims against 
 my uncle's estate, and to deliver it in person, together 
 with this letter, so that I may know that it is safely in 
 your hands. I heard rumours of bankruptcy, and it 
 occurred to me that difficulties might possibly arise as a 
 consequence in the matter of your marriage with Mile. 
 d'Aubrion. Yes, cousin, you are quite right about my 
 tastes and manners ; I have lived, as you say, so entirely 
 out of the world, that I know nothing of its ways or its 
 calculations, and my companionship could never make up 
 to you for the loss of the pleasures that you look to find 
 in society. I hope that you will be happy according to 
 the social conventions to which you have sacrificed our 
 early love. The only thing in my power to give you 
 to complete your happiness is your father's good name. 
 Farewell ; you will always find a faithful friend in your 
 cousin, Eugenie.' 
 
 In spite of himself an exclamation broke from the man 
 of social ambitions when his eyes fell on the discharge 
 and receipts. The president smiled. 
 
 ' We can each announce our marriage,' said he. 
 
 ' Oh ! you are to marry Eugénie, are you ? Well, I 
 am glad to hear it ; she is a kind-hearted girl. Why ! ' 
 struck with a sudden luminous idea, ' she must be rich ? '
 
 Eugénie Grandet 225 
 
 ' Four days ago she had about nineteen millions,' the 
 president said, with a malicious twinkle in his eyes ; 
 ' to-day she has only seventeen.' 
 
 Charles was dumbfounded ; he stared at the president. 
 
 'Seventeen mil ' 
 
 'Seventeen millions. Yes, sir; when we are married, 
 Mile. Grandet and I shall muster seven hundred and 
 fifty thousand livres a year between us.' 
 
 'My dear cousin,' said Charles, with some return of 
 assurance, 'we shall be able to push each other's for- 
 tunes.' 
 
 'Certainly,' said the president. 'There is something 
 else here,' he added, 'a little case that I was to give only 
 into your hands,' and he set down a box containing the 
 dressing-case upon the table. 
 
 The door opened, and in came Mme. la Marquise 
 d'Aubrion ; the great lady seemed to be unaware of 
 Cruchot's existence. 'Look here! dear,' she said, 'never 
 mind what that absurd M. d'Aubrion has been saying to 
 you ; the Duchesse de Chaulieu has quite turned his 
 head. I repeat it, there is nothing to prevent your 
 marriage ' 
 
 ' Nothing, madame,' answered Charles. ' The three 
 millions which my father owed were paid yesterday.' 
 
 ' In money ? ' she asked. 
 
 ' In full, capital and interest ; I mean to rehabilitate 
 his memory.' 
 
 ' What nonsense ! ' cried his mother-in-law. ' Who is 
 this person ? ' she asked in Charles's ear, as she saw 
 Cruchot for the first time. 
 
 ' My man of business,' he answered in a low voice. 
 The Marquise gave M. de Bonfons a disdainful bow, and 
 left the room. 
 
 'We are beginning to push each other's fortunes 
 already,' said the president drily, as he took up his hat. 
 ' Good day, cousin.' 
 
 ' The old cockatoo from Saumur is laughing at me ; I 
 
 p
 
 226 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 &' 
 
 have a great mind to make him swallow six inches of 
 cold steel,' thought Charles. 
 
 But the president had departed. 
 
 Three days later M. de Bonfons was back in Saumur 
 again, and announced his marriage with Eugénie. After 
 about six months he received his appointment as 
 Councillor to the Court-Royal at Angers, and they went 
 thither. But before Eugénie left Saumur she melted 
 down the trinkets that had long been so sacred and so dear 
 a trust, and gave them, together with the eight thousand 
 francs which her cousin had returned to her, to make a 
 reredos for the altar in the parish church whither she had 
 gone so often to pray to God for him. Henceforward 
 her life was spent partly at Angers, partly at Saumur. 
 Her husband's devotion to the government at a political 
 crisis was rewarded ; he was made President of the 
 Chamber, and finally First President. Then he awaited 
 a general election with impatience ; he had visions of a 
 place in the government ; he had dreams of a peerage ; 
 and then, and then . . . 
 
 ' Then he would call cousins with the king, I suppose ? ' 
 said Nanon, big Nanon, Mme. Cornoiller, wife of a 
 burgess of Saumur, when her mistress told her of these 
 lofty ambitions and high destinies. 
 
 Yet, after all, none of these ambitious dreams were to 
 be realised, and the name of M. de Bonfons (he had 
 finally dropped the patronymic Cruchot) was to undergo 
 no further transformation. He died only eight days after 
 his appointment as deputy of Saumur. God, who sees 
 all hearts, and who never strikes without cause, punished 
 him, doubtless, for his presumptuous schemes, and for 
 the lawyer's cunning with which, acciirante Cruchot^ 
 he had drafted his own marriage contract ; in which 
 husband and wife, in case there was no issue of the marriage^ 
 bequeathed to each other all their property^ both real estate 
 and personalty^ without exception or reservation^ dispensing
 
 Eugénie Grandet 227 
 
 even luith the formality of an inventory^ provided that the 
 omission of the said inventory should not injure their heirs 
 and assigns^ it being understood that this deed of gift ^ etc. 
 etc.^ a clause which may throw some Hght on the pro- 
 found respect which the president constantly showed for 
 his wife's desire to live apart. Women cited M. le 
 Premier Président as one of the most delicately con- 
 siderate of men, and pitied him, and often went so far as 
 to blame Eugénie for clinging to her passion and her 
 sorrow ; mingling, according to their wont, cruel insinua- 
 tions with their criticisms of the president's wife. 
 
 * If Mme. de Bonfons lives apart from her husband, 
 she must be in very bad health, poor thing. Is she likely 
 to recover ? What can be the matter with her ? Is it 
 cancer or gastritis, or what is it ? Why does she not go 
 to Paris and see some specialist ? She has looked very 
 sallow for a long time past. How can she not wish to 
 have a child ? They say she is very fond of her husband ; 
 why not give him an heir in his position ? Do you 
 know, it is really dreadful ! If it is only some notion 
 which she has taken into her head, it is unpardonable. 
 Poor president ! ' 
 
 There is a certain keen insight and quick apprehensive- 
 ness that is the gift of a lonely and meditative life — and 
 loneliness, and sorrow, and the discipline of the last few 
 years had given Eugénie this clairvoyance of the narrow 
 lot. She knew within herself that the president was 
 anxious for her death that he might be the sole possessor 
 of the colossal fortune, now still further increased by the 
 deaths of the abbé and the notary, whom Providence had 
 lately seen fit to promote from works to rewards. The 
 poor solitary woman understood and pitied the president. 
 Unworthy hopes and selfish calculations were his strongest 
 motives for respecting Eugenie's hopeless passion. To 
 give life to a child would be death to the egoistical dreams 
 and ambitions that the president hugged within himself; 
 was it for all these things that his career was cut short I
 
 22 8 Eugénie Grandet 
 
 while she must remain in her prison house, and the 
 coveted gold for which she cared so little was to be 
 lieaped upon her. It was she who was to live, with the 
 thought of heaven always before her, and holy thoughts 
 for her companions, to give help and comfort secretly to 
 those who were in distress. Mme. de Bonfons was left 
 a widow three years after her marriage, with an income 
 of eight hundred thousand livres. 
 
 She is beautiful still, with the beauty of a woman 
 who is nearly forty years of age. Her face is very pale 
 and quiet now, and there is a tinge of sadness in the 
 low tones of her voice. She has simple manners, all the 
 dignity of one who has passed through great sorrows, 
 and the saintliness of a soul unspotted by the world ; and, 
 no less, the rigidness of an old maid, the little penurious 
 ways and narrow ideas of a dull country town. 
 
 Although she has eight hundred thousand livres a 
 year, she lives just as she used to do in the days of 
 stinted allowances of fuel and food while she was still 
 Eugénie Grandet ; the fire is never lighted in the parlour 
 before or after the dates fixed by her father, all the 
 regulations in force in the days of her girlhood are 
 still adhered to. She dresses as her mother did. That 
 cold, sunless, dreary house, always overshadowed by the 
 dark ramparts, is like her own life. 
 
 She looks carefully after her affairs ; her wealth 
 accumulates from year to year ; perhaps she might even 
 be called parsimonious, if it were not for the noble use 
 she makes of her fortune. Various pious and charitable 
 institutions, almshouses, and orphan asylums, a richly 
 endowed public library, and donations to various churches 
 in Saumur, are a sufficient answer to the charge of 
 avarice which some few people have brought against 
 her. 
 
 They sometimes speak of her in joke as rna demoiselle^ 
 but, in fact, people stand somewhat in awe of Mme. de 
 Bonfons. It was as if she, whose heart went out so readily
 
 Eugénie Grandet 229 
 
 to others, was always to be the victim of their interested 
 calculations, and to be cut off from them by a barrier of 
 distrust ; as if for all warmth and brightness in her life 
 she was to find only the pale glitter of metal. 
 
 ' No one loves me but you,' she would sometimes say 
 to Nanon. 
 
 Yet her hands are always ready to bind the wounds 
 that other eyes do not see, in any house ; and her way 
 to heaven is one long succession of kindness and good 
 deeds. The real greatness of her soul has risen above 
 the cramping influences of her early life. And this is 
 the life history of a woman who dwells in the world, yet 
 is not of it, a woman so grandly fitted to be a wife and 
 mother, hut who has neither husband nor children nor 
 kindred. 
 
 Of late the good folk of Saumur have begun to talk of 
 a second marriage for her. Rumour is busy with her 
 name and that of the Marquis de Froidfond ; indeed, 
 his family have begun to surround the rich widow, just 
 as the Cruchots once flocked about Eugénie Grandet. 
 Nanon and Cornoiller, so it is said, are in the interest 
 of the Marquis, but nothing could be more false ; for 
 big Nanon and Cornoiller have neither of them wit 
 enough to understand the corruptions of the world. 
 
 Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty 
 at the Edinburgh University Press
 
 AA 001047 519 
 
 CENTRAL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 University of California, Saji Diego 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 NOV 30 1978 
 
 nEC X9 1 9 7R 
 
 -n 2 2 1Q79 
 
 AUG 6 1079 
 
 OEC 1 1979 
 
 DEC 03 1979 
 
 MAY2 1G8] 
 MAY 1 G 1:^3 
 
 CI 39 
 
 UCSD Libr,