Honore de Balzac: Cousin Betty

1. PART I: THE PRODIGAL FATHER (continued)

"Michael Angelo over again; but, for a lover, he has kept his head on his shoulders!" said Hortense. "And how much does he want for it?"

"Fifteen hundred francs. The dealer will not let it go for less, since he must take his commission."

"Papa is in the King's household just now," said Hortense. "He sees those two ministers every day at the Chamber, and he will do the thing --I undertake that. You will be a rich woman, Madame la Comtesse de Steinbock."

"No, the boy is too lazy; for whole weeks he sits twiddling with bits of red wax, and nothing comes of it. Why, he spends all his days at the Louvre and the Library, looking at prints and sketching things. He is an idler!"

The cousins chatted and giggled; Hortense laughing a forced laugh, for she was invaded by a kind of love which every girl has gone through-- the love of the unknown, love in its vaguest form, when every thought is accreted round some form which is suggested by a chance word, as the efflorescence of hoar-frost gathers about a straw that the wind has blown against the window-sill.

For the past ten months she had made a reality of her cousin's imaginary romance, believing, like her mother, that Lisbeth would never marry; and now, within a week, this visionary being had become Comte Wenceslas Steinbock, the dream had a certificate of birth, the wraith had solidified into a young man of thirty. The seal she held in her hand--a sort of Annunciation in which genius shone like an immanent light--had the powers of a talisman. Hortense felt such a surge of happiness, that she almost doubted whether the tale were true; there was a ferment in her blood, and she laughed wildly to deceive her cousin.

"But I think the drawing-room door is open," said Lisbeth; "let us go and see if Monsieur Crevel is gone."

"Mamma has been very much out of spirits these two days. I suppose the marriage under discussion has come to nothing!"